Walk the Line
by Metamorphosis2011
Summary: At 26, Castiel Novak thought he had it all, or at least as much as he could ask for. He was on his way to finishing his doctorate, married and about to become a homeowner. Little did he know that moving opposite the Winchesters would change his life forever in ways he never thought possible This is a story of Castiel's and Dean's changing relationship over the years.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Another one of my Destiel ideas that wouldn't leave me alone and finally made it into the written form. This is totally AU, although I am trying to keep the characters as close to canon as possible with regards to their personality traits. I am taking some liberties, obviously, especially with little Sammy, who might or might not be based on my totally crazy and adorable 9 year old.

I'm kind of excited and a bit nervous about this story, as it will deal with the quite delicate matter of changing feelings towards someone once they transition from childhood to adulthood. I promise Castiel will not be a creeper and I will try to portray his struggles and the eventual resolution believably.

The rating might change in later chapters.

The first 5 chapters are all almost done, although I do not know the total chapter count yet.

Other warnings: AU, age difference, coming out, initially unrequited, one sided Dean/Castiel, very slow build (because of the subject matter), Dean will be 17 before anything sexual happens between them, I guess underage depending on what your local AOC is, neglect, homophobia, alcoholism, Cas/OCs, Dean/OCs, angst, the occasional shmooop, happy ending

* * *

Prologue

As far as moving up in the world was concerned, this definitely was not it. Especially bearing in mind the nice, leafy, suburban neighbourhood back in Oklahoma City he grew up in. But it was all two post grad students on part-time assistant salaries could afford (even with the help of willing parents) but at least it was theirs. There was some kind of satisfaction to be had from the fact that they would not be lining some fat cat's pockets with their hard earned cash even if that meant having to compromise on the location.

Castiel stood outside the white clad two storey building he and his wife now called their home, studying the exterior extensively. He internally added to his already rather long list of all the things that needed to be fixed, categorising them as 'had to be done yesterday' or 'when we will get round to it'. He liked doing lists. They helped him feel organised and in control, despite the fact that this 'predisposition' of his had led to a great many ribbings from his older siblings over the years. People who said the youngest in a family had it easy, clearly had never laid eyes on his three brothers and one sister. It was not without good reason Castiel had decided to break with the family tradition and study in Chicago instead of Oklahoma University like all his siblings had.

He sighed at the thought of his family; he missed and didn't miss them at the same time. It was a complicated relationship but he shouldn't let that dampen his mood. It was a sunny and warm June morning and the sun was warming his face nicely. They couldn't have asked for better weather for the move. Not like the storm front that had decided to pass by and drench them and all their guests on their wedding day. Just the short walk from the church to the cars had everybody soaked to the skin - umbrellas had little effect in the gale force like winds. It made for some _interesting_ wedding pictures though.

The 'sold' sign was still up on the front lawn, swinging in the light morning breeze. He could even hear the odd chirp of some birds, as the roads were mainly quiet at this time of morning. Castiel rested himself against the frame of his car and just let the scenery in front of him unfold. This was definitely one of the less desired neighbourhoods in Chicago, as could be seen by the varying degrees of neglect manifesting on some of the surrounding houses, but it was by far not the worst. The orangey glow of the sun even managed to temporarily make it look quaint. From his extensive research (another one of his pet peeves), Castiel had gathered that the area was mainly safe, even at night, apart from the odd gangs of unruly teenagers causing trouble on occasion. Nothing much out of the ordinary for any city neighbourhood these days. But he was only too aware that they were only a few streets away from one of the roughest parts of Chicago, and only hoped that the realtor hadn't been lying when he swore to them that trouble really never spilled over into this area.

Still, something about this house had spoken to both Amelia and him, and the price was very favourable, so they decided to take the risk, even though upon hearing about the house and its location, his parents had scrunched up their noses in discomfort and asked them to reconsider And that, quite frankly, had been the final straw for Castiel. He hadn't had many occasions for rebellion during his rather strict upbringing, so whenever a 'no matter how small' opportunity for some satisfying passive aggressive protest presented itself, he tended to jump on it. Not very mature, he knew, but it was not as though he had ever done much in terms of juvenile delinquency, so he allowed himself this little character flaw.

And as for the house, it came with an installed security system, and anyway, it was not like there was much to take. Their furniture consisted mainly of cast offs from friends and relatives. Other than their laptops and an extensive book collection, any thief would be welcome to help themselves to whatever. Even their car looked kind of shabby compared to that shiny, black old-timer across the road.

Castiel consoled himself with the knowledge that this would just be a stepping stone, and once he and Amelia will have finished their doctorates, they would be able to find tenure and move out of here to a slightly more upmarket area. He huffed, amused, under his breath. Weird, how he already thought about moving on, not even having started to unpack the boxes the movers were currently carrying into the house. His wife of one month was waving her hands frantically, giving out orders where she wanted what and Castiel knew better than to get involved; too many cooks and all that.

He already knew that later, when she was distracted, he would rearrange things slightly more to his liking. He appreciated his things being placed in a certain order, as Amelia had found out the hard way, when she had innocently "rearranged" the furniture in his apartment, only to have him freak and demand it all to be put back. But despite his quirks, they made it work (though he had a big learning curve of making concessions along the way), and it had turned into a well practiced back and forth dance between them once she had moved into his apartment a few months after they started going out. (Incidentally, another occasion where his parents had rolled their eyes at him, well they would have if his parents did do the eye roll thing. But they definitely did let him know their discontent: co-habitation prior to marriage was another thing frowned upon in the Novak family).

He never had expected to marry quite this young, just having turned 26. He had had this whole 10 year plan to finish his studies, maybe travel a bit in between, and then bank himself a good job; generally a wife and a house had not featured in those plans. But then he met Amelia during his last year as an undergrad, and they connected on so many levels, that Castiel, in the time of a few months could say with confidence that he was in love with her.

His parents, old fashioned and firm on upholding the family values (all his siblings had been married by the time they were 26), had been doing their part at urging him on to make an 'honest woman' of Amelia. Her family was more middle-of-the-road, but had taken to him, so they hadn't really raised any questions when Castiel proposed not eight months after they first started going out. And maybe, just maybe, he did rush into this marriage a bit, although he generally chose not to think about it too much.

But deep down Castiel knew (had known even back then) that this might be his only shot at leading, what was so plainly termed, a 'normal life' and so he had grabbed hold of it with both hands. Amelia had in fact been the first woman he harboured any kind of feelings, which could remotely be described as romantic, for. Not that he had been particularly attracted to anyone, or if he was being totally honest with himself, allowed himself to be attracted to anyone. Life had just been easier without the added complication of relationships.

And now he had made his choice, and despite any doubts that occasionally might rear their ugly heads, he was committed to his wife, hoping that it was this commitment that would keep his other, unwelcome desires under control (and that those were very unwelcome, not to say 'not natural', his parents had instilled in their kids from a very young age). He was praying they would just disappear completely over time. Because if anything, Castiel was loyal, a man of his word and he would find a way of making this work. Amelia deserved nothing less, and on a whole, he could say that he was happy, and that had to count for something.

#

It took exactly three hours after moving in for the force of nature, also known as Dean and Sam Winchester to come barreling into Castiel's life and knock it off its axis.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This fic will have some jumps in time, sometimes as much as a few months. I'm trying to cover a 10 year period by the end of this fic and need some ebb and flow in the pacing. I hope they're all pretty self explanatory. If not please let me know.

* * *

Chapter 1

"What in the name of everything was that?" Castiel came charging out of the room that one day would hopefully be his study, ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, and came to a stop in the hall, almost tripping over the football that had left a shattered living room window in its wake. His wife was already there, staring in disbelief at the glass mess on the floor.

Castiel walked up to the broken window and looked out, seeing a boy of no older than eight or nine standing shell-shocked, gawking, while an older boy was tugging at his arm frantically, urging him to just run.

Before he could think, Castiel, enraged that his new home was already being vandalised – he just knew this neighbourhood was trouble, research and realtor be damned - stormed out the front door and towards the boys.

"Hey!" he shouted, and must have sounded mightily intimidating if the way the younger boy flinched was anything to go by.

"Sammy, come on," the older boy yelled, still trying to get the smaller kid to move.

"Was this you?" Castiel demanded, coming to a stop and staring down the younger kid, Sammy, his brain provided for him.

"I, I'm sorry, Mr. We were just playing catch and … I didn't mean to. It was an accident and…" The boy stammered, big hazel, scared eyes looking up at Castiel from behind a mop of wild hair, a look that immediately took all the wind out of Castiel's sail. Not that he really knew what to say next, now that his immediate rage was diffused. He really had no experience dealing with these kinds of situations, read: _kids_. They were a species to themselves as far as Castiel was concerned. Guess, like so many other things in his life recently, that was about to change.

"No," the older boy protested, catching Castiel's attention and stepping in front of the smaller kid protectively.

"Sir, it was not him. It was me, and it was not on purpose. I was just trying to teach him to catch a good kick. Please, you must believe me," he pleaded, holding Castiel's gaze while keeping the smaller kid back behind him with one hand.

Castiel took in a deep breath. He couldn't help but admire the way the older boy was trying to protect his friend, brother? He could sympathize, being one of five children; sure they did occasionally get into trouble in their days, despite probably having had some of the strictest parents in the whole of Oklahoma. Although he doubted that any of his brothers would have stood up for him like that, Anna possibly, on a good day.

"Ok, ok. I … Just calm down." Castiel ran his hands through his hair, coming to rest on his neck and giving it a rub. "I know accidents happen. It's just a window, nothing that can't be fixed. Still, I will need to talk to your parents and ask them to replace it." There, 'understanding' but 'authoritative', Castiel was rather pleased with himself.

At the mention of their parents both boys grew rigid. Well, of course they would be uncomfortable; probably they would get grounded for a few days for this. God, if it had been him, their dad would have given him a talking to he wouldn't have forgotten in a hurry. Castiel's memory drifted back to the only time he actually got in trouble with his dad, and indeed, it was like he could still feel the sting on his backside. After all, that was how kids learned from their mistakes, Castiel mused, although he knew that these days (and god, that thought made him feel old) kids generally weren't supposed to be punished in that way anymore.

"No. Mr. Please, do not tell our dad." The older boy now all but begged, dragging Castiel out of his little trip down memory lane, his voice wavering and his posture suddenly not so confident anymore. His eyes darted between the houses, coming to rest on the house opposite, the one with the black car, as though he was expecting something or someone to come at him. "I, I will pay for it. I …just please, don't tell."

Castiel just eyed the boy, perplexed at the sudden outburst, raising an eyebrow questioningly. How was a kid, he would guess of about twelve or thirteen, going to pay for a replacement window? Unless he was one of those diligent kids, that saved all their pocket money. Then again, the clothes the boys wore didn't exactly scream money, well, this whole neighbourhood didn't really. Probably quite a few of its inhabitants were on welfare of some kind or other. And Castiel was really trying not to sound like a snob, even to himself, with limited success if he was being honest.

"It's just …" Dean picked up on the man's calculating look, and quickly calmed himself. He could not afford to raise too many suspicions. He had been holding his family together for so long, ever since his mom had died in a stupid car crash and his dad had grown fonder of the JD than his children, having told a good few lies in the process. He knew he had gotten rather good at it when he put his mind to it. Trying to put on his best Sunday school smile, he continued. "Just, our dad is really stressed at the moment, he had a bit of a hard time, being in between jobs, he _is_ looking though, but we really haven't got the money to spare right now. But … I'm _really good_ with DIY and I could work for you to pay off the window. I could tend to your garden, help you with the move, just please; he doesn't need the extra stress right now." And he flashed the man in front of him another confident smile, the one that got him out of trouble before.

Castiel didn't quite know what to say to that. The boy barely even took a breath while giving his speech and the younger boy was peeking at him sheepishly from behind the older kid. There was just something about the boy's determination he couldn't help but respect, though still he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being played. God, he had never been good with kids, what on earth was he supposed to do?

Luckily, he didn't need to make a decision as his wife chose that moment to appear next to him, smiling warmly at the boys.

"So, do we have you to thank for the smashed window?" She asked but her voice was warm and welcoming. Both boys nodded their heads in silent agreement.

"What are your names?" She asked them.

Dean glanced suspiciously at her, she seemed a little too friendly, but knew better than not to answer. "Dean, my name is Dean, and this is my brother Sammy."

"Hello Dean and Sammy. Do you live around here?"

"Yes, we live just there, Ma'am." Dean said, pointing to a shabby looking house across the road, the pristine black car in stark contrast to the rest of the house.

Amelia chuckled. "First, please call me Amelia. Ma'am makes me feel really old." Dean and Sammy both smiled at that. "And this is my husband Castiel."

Both boys eyes shot up at the peculiar name, something Castiel has gotten quite used to over the years. It was what you got for growing up in an extremely old fashioned, religious family, burdening all their children with biblical names, and not of the popular variety.

"Go on, ask," he said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Does it have a meaning?" It was Sammy who asked, finally having stepped out of his older brother's shadow, with child like curiosity, that Castiel couldn't help but find endearing, reminding him of his younger self.

"Yes, it means Angel of Thursday, and yes, my family is very religious," he added, anticipating Sam's next question. Sam nodded, curiosity apparently satisfied and the boys started shuffling on their feet nervously, waiting for the inevitable.

Dean's jaw clenched tight, if Castiel and Amelia would go to their dad, all this, all that was left of his family, could come crashing down. His dad was not in a good place right now, Dean knew it was only a phase and he would come out of it soon enough, just like he had been able to before. But just right now, he didn't need anyone snooping around in his family's business. Why oh why did they smash that stupid window?

"The window," Amelia started after a moment of tense silence, like she could read Dean's mind.

"Oh yes," Castiel remembered why they were all here after all. He turned to his wife. "Now, Dean has informed me that his father is currently looking for a job and hence cannot afford to pay for the window at this time. But Dean has offered to help around the house in repayment, assuring me he is very versed in DIY." Castiel told his wife, giving her a 'they don't want their dad to know, because probably he is not treating them very nicely' look. It was just the vibes he had gotten from both boys when they had been slightly too adamantly protesting and that had roused Castiel's suspicions, but of course, he could be totally wrong. One thing he was generally not, and that was being good at reading between the lines. But he did not want to cause the boys, who on second glance seemed rather nice and polite, any undue trouble, and in the end, it _was_ only a window.

"And I'm good at gardening as well, and no offence, but your lawn has seen better days," Dean added more confidently, feeling like he almost had them where he wanted them.

"Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something," Amelia smiled, nodding her head in understanding. "Why don't we start by serving you guys some lemonade and then maybe you could start to clear out the backyard for us, while Castiel unpacks, and I will make a few calls, seeing how fast this window can be replaced."

Dean and Sam both let out a big sigh of relief. "Yes Ma'am," Dean confirmed and at Amelia's raised eyebrows corrected himself immediately. "Yes, Amelia."

"Ok, that's settled." She laughed. "But maybe it would be best to let your parents know where you're going first."

Amelia and Castiel were startled when both boys started talking simultaneously, Sammy started with a "Don't matter, our dad…," while Dean said something along the lines of "Dad's out," before nudging Sammy with his foot to shut up.

"I mean, dad has gone to the shops, weekly shopping you know, and me and Sammy don't generally like to tag along. He should be back in a couple of hours."

Dean was not sure whether he had pulled it off but to his relief the adults didn't question him further, instead motioning for them to follow them to their house. And maybe following some people he didn't know into their house was not a smart idea but thanks to that smashed window, he didn't feel like he had many options. Worst case, he knew how to throw a punch, should they turn out to be psychopaths.

#

"The door," Castiel yelled from upstairs, where he was currently busy painting the walls, paint splatters all over his hand and face.

"I got it," Amelia confirmed, already halfway down the stairs.

She opened the door to find Dean and Sam standing on the porch and couldn't keep the surprise off her face. To be honest, neither she nor Castiel had expected to see the boys again after last Saturday, when they had, true to Dean's word, spent all morning clearing the backyard of overgrown weeds and general debris, before excusing themselves as their dad would be expecting them back home. They hadn't as much as set eyes on them all week, and assumed they had probably lied about where they lived.

"Dean, Sammy, what are you doing here?" She smiled at them.

Dean looked at her like she was a bit slow on the uptake which, to be fair, she kind of was.

"It's Saturday," he simply stated.

"Oh, right. You're here to work."

"Yes, we are. I said I would work off the debt." Sammy nodded eagerly in agreement. Dean's dad might not be the same person he had been before their mom's death, but he had always instilled in his boys to be true to their word, and Dean intended on not owing Castiel and Amelia anything.

"Ok, come in. Castiel look who's here!" she yelled up the stairs, and a moment later Castiel appeared, looking just as surprised as she had a moment ago.

"You're painting," Dean took in Castiel's speckled face.

"Well, I'm trying to," Castiel responded, sounding like he'd rather be doing anything else.

"I can help with that. I mean, my dad taught me how to, when we redecorated the house a while back. Picked up some tricks," Dean said (conveniently omitting that the last time their dad had really shown him anything had been almost three years ago. The day of the accident had been the last time Dean had seen his dad sober for more than a day or two).

"Well, why don't you help Cassie then and I'll see if I can find something for Sammy to do. Come on Sammy." Amelia placed a hand on his shoulder motioning for him to join her in the living room. Dean tried not to laugh at the pet name, but Cassie, really? What was wrong with something like Cas? Cas would suit the man a lot better, Dean decided.

Dean waited patiently for instructions but none were forthcoming. They stayed unmoving in the hallway for some reason. "Well… lead the way," he said when he couldn't take this awkwardness any more. This Castiel dude was weird, not psychopath 'I'm going to kill you in the middle of the night' weird, but not exactly normal either. The term 'nutty professor' came to mind.

"Oh, right. Follow me." Castiel walked up the stairs, gesturing for Dean to follow him. Dean couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Castiel's confused expression.

#

Just like they had the week before, the boys turned up again the following Saturday. Castiel had moved on from the study to painting the living room, while Amelia was working on the garden. It still was not his favourite thing to do, but he cared to think that he was getting better at it.

Castiel stared at the kids with curiosity, in between trying to paint the wall and not spill any of the paint. He was not sure whether he needed to make conversation while they were doing this or whether it would be acceptable to just quietly work side by side. Castiel really, really wasn't very experienced when it came to kids. He just didn't know how to relate to them. Generally, people only became interesting to him once they could be engaged in a meaningful conversation. Even as a child he had preferred the company of adults to people his own age. Maybe he was just weird like that or maybe he just needed to escape his siblings. Kids just brought chaos into his otherwise well organised world, and while Castiel knew and accepted that Amelia one day wanted kids, it had seemed so far in the future that he hadn't needed to think about it. He was sure he could rise to the challenge when he needed to, but he didn't think the time would come quite so soon.

And yet, somehow he had ended up in the company of two just such specimens, throwing his beloved order in disarray. Sammy had joined them about an hour ago, with the excuse of having gotten bored in the garden. Although Castiel suspected he missed his brother. The way he so clearly adored and worshipped Dean was rather sweet, something Castiel had never experienced with any of his siblings. He had always been grateful for the times he didn't have to be in their presence.

But here the boys were and what supposedly had only been meant as a lesson to 'scare some sense' into them was somehow turning into something more. If he was more adept socially, he probably would have seen this coming a mile off. His wife loved kids and of course her mother hen instinct took over as soon as she had set eyes on those boys, broken window or not, and while fully aware that really, they could not let the kids work for the replacement window for real, she had thought it a good exercise in teaching them about consequences of their actions and hold them to their word. All the while spending a good time spoiling them with biscuits and lemonade.

Maybe it was because he was the youngest in his family, the baby, as they all still so often reminded him, that he had no ingrained skill in dealing with boisterous little menaces. Of course, by now his older siblings had produced plenty of offspring for the Novak clan but, well, let's just say Castiel had always been more than happy to hand the smelly, loud bundles of 'joy' back to their respective parents. And yet here he was stuck with two boys, one cocky thirteen year old, who apparently knew more about decorating than he did, and an overexcited nine year old, right now fraying his nerves, begging his brother rather adamantly to let him have a go at painting the wall.

Dean must have clearly developed some kind of immunity towards his kid brother's whining, ruffling his hair and telling him to find something else to do, while managing to stay focused on the job at hand but Castiel was not so lucky. That was why after about 15 minutes of 'please' and 'I can do it', and 'how will I ever learn if you don't let me?', _and_ those doe eyes, Castiel caved. He told himself it was only to preserve the last shreds of his sanity but the way Sammy just wanted to learn, to know whether he could do this, just warmed his heart in a way he had not prior thought possible.

"Come over here," he said and placed Sammy on the little stool next to him, handing him a brush and letting him go wild at the wall and the smile the boy sprouted had been worth it.

Castiel had the feeling that Dean had only refused his brother because he assumed that he wouldn't want him anywhere near the walls, because, as soon as Castiel gave his ok, Dean called his brother over and showed him exactly how to dip and clear off the excess paint and the best way to stroke to get the smoothest coverage. And Castiel saw Dean's face light up in a way he had not done so far, as he watched Sammy for a few minutes, laughing at the way his tongue flicked out as he concentrated very hard on getting this right. And most of all, it was quiet apart from the odd chuckle and instructions, as they continued their work. If Castiel had known that it would be that easy to shut up a whiney nine year old, he would have let Sammy paint the whole darn room.

#

It had been about a month after the 'window' incident, that Castiel had approached Winchester Senior one afternoon to introduce himself. It had not gone too well. Mr Winchester seemed the polar opposite of his children, borderline rude and not really interested in making conversation. He and Amelia had worked out that there was no mother around, but as to what exactly happened they were still in the dark as neither of the boys was very forthcoming with information. Castiel couldn't help but notice the stench of cigarettes and a faint smell of alcohol on the man's breath. He, in not so uncertain terms, had told Castiel to mind his own business before disappearing into the house. Castiel had tried to bring this up with Dean on one of their Saturdays but the boy assured him that he had just met their dad on a bad day, having had attended a friend's birthday party the night before, and Castiel had let it rest in line with good old Novak tradition of not putting your nose in other people's business.

#

"Spaghetti hoops or alphabet soup?" Dean held two tins up in front of his chest.

"Alphabet soup," Sammy said enthusiastically, and Dean groaned. "You just want me to spell out weird stuff with you again. Seriously, where do you even know half these words from?"

"I read! And Mrs Baxter says that my vocabulary is way above average for my age," Sammy stated proudly. Dean of course knew that Sammy was a bright cookie, but that didn't mean he couldn't wind him up over it.

"Ok, alphabet soup it is, just gimme a minute." Dean said pulling out a pot and emptying the contents of the tin into it before putting it on the stove.

Sammy settled at the kitchen table, paper and pens in hand and started drawing.

"Where's dad? Won't he need dinner?" Sammy looked up from the table after a moment.

"He's out. Said something about a job opportunity," Dean replied, and was glad that Sammy just hummed and didn't ask any more questions. He hated lying to his brother but Sammy was only just nine and didn't need to deal with the shit that was reality. Anyway, where was the point in telling him that dad most likely was out getting drunk. It wouldn't change the facts and only would make Sammy feel bad.

Dean toasted some bread and divided the soup up into two bowls before bringing them over to the table.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked looking at the picture.

"That's Castiel and Amelia in their garden. I'm gonna give it to them to put on their fridge. There are no pictures on it," Sammy said like it was a crime. Their own fridge was a collage of Sammy's various school works and pictures, and Dean was always eager to appreciate this brothers' work.

"You really like them, don't you?" Dean asked sitting down next to Sam and taking a bite of the toast.

"Yes, they're great. I bet mom would have liked them too."

Dean winced internally. He hated talking about his mom, the loss still felt too fresh, even after three years. But thankfully Sammy seemed to have been able to move on.

"Probably. Just… you know, don't get too attached to them. You, erm, never know when they have to leave again."

"Don't be stupid Dean! They just moved in, of course they're not going anywhere." Sammy stated matter-of-factly and Dean just rolled his eyes and urged his brother to eat his dinner.

Later, while he was washing up he couldn't help the queasiness in his stomach at the thought of how Sammy seemed to get close to these people they barely knew. Yes, they seemed nice enough, but in the end they were not family, not even friends really. And he didn't want Sammy to get hurt by getting too attached to them. He had noticed how his eyes lit up whenever Amelia would smother him with her attention and while he was happy for him, he couldn't help the dread at the knowledge that this was not going to last. Nothing good in life ever lasted. He sometimes wished he had Sammy's love for people and above that his trust in people. But he really couldn't afford that. Also he did not ever again want to hurt like he had when he realised that his mom would never be coming back, never tuck him in again, read him a bed time story and bake his favourite pie for him.

It was safer not to grow too close to people at all. With the exception of his nerdy little brother that was, as long as Sammy was happy he himself was at least ok. And if being at Amelia's and Castiel made him happy, Dean would let him continue to go there. On top of that, Castiel was good for a laugh sometimes, when he didn't get a reference and looked at Dean all confused, face scrunched up. Dean knew he was studying to be a professor but Castiel seemed to have taken the whole "nutty professor" thing a bit too literally, being in his own world half the time.

Finishing up the dishes and making sure Sam went to bed at a reasonable time, Dean actually allowed himself to go to bed with a small smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

"I'm not sure about this, Sammy," Dean shuffled uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Don't be silly, I'm sure they won't mind," Sammy smiled encouragingly at his older brother.

"I really don't know. Showing up in the evening... their private time is a helluva lot different from coming around to help on a Saturday."

Sammy just rolled his eyes and in his youthful exuberance knocked on the door before Dean could stop him.

"_Sammy_!" Dean hissed. He loved his little brother but sometimes he could throttle him, like right now. This had all been the crazy dork's idea anyway and he should have just told him to stuff it. But before he could entertain that thought any further, the door opened and Dean was met with the piercing blue eyes of Castiel.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said by way of greeting. Of course, Sammy had taken that moment to hide behind him. 'Thanks bro', Dean thought as he cleared his throat nervously.

"Uh, hello Castiel," Dean stammered, which caused the older man's mouth to curl into a small smile.

"And hello to you too, Sammy." Even without actually seeing the kid, Castiel knew that he must be around here somewhere. There was no way Dean would turn up anywhere without his 'shadow'. Despite kids in general still mainly remaining a mystery to him, he had worked out that much about the two brothers.

"Hi, Castiel." He caught a glance of Sammy popping his head round the side, ribbing Dean in the thigh, and giggling.

"Can I help you with something?" His curiosity was truly spiked now. The Winchester boys had become somewhat of a feature during Saturdays in their home but they had never showed up during the week, in the evening none the less.

"Eh, yes actually, but, I know it's late and, it was just, but really you're probably busy and that's fine. We don't want to bother you and…"

"DEAN," Sammy interrupted, rolling his eyes. How was a small person like that even able to pull that 'you're so slow' look off? Castiel's gaze darted between them, brows furrowed, looking like he was trying to solve the world's greatest puzzle, with small lines appearing on his scrunched up forehead. If Dean wasn't so nervous and still internally cussing at himself for listening to his kid brother, he would say Castiel looked almost cute, if a scruffy man of his age could be called that, _and_ Dean would never even want to call someone, anyone, that. Puppies and kittens and his dorky brother were cute, not some married, who knows how old, men!

Castiel cleared his throat and nodded encouragingly at Dean, who was still staring. But that little rasp finally got his vocal chords to work again.

"It's, I need to do some homework on the internet but we just had a power cut and well, our laptop is not working as a result."

"Power cut?" Castiel asked confused, letting his eyes roam the row of houses, all of which displayed various degrees of lighting.

"Or a blown fuse, I don't know, just the power is gone and I really wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent, I'm sorry."

Castiel had a feeling there was more to the 'no power' situation than just a blown fuse. His most likely guess would be that they got cut off, as, even with his limited knowledge concerning their family situation, he would guess that their dad had been without a job for at least a couple of months now and Castiel had been wondering how they had managed to pay their bills. Maybe Winchester Senior did have some savings and used those. He had mainly stuck to the man's request of minding his own business but that didn't keep him from thinking on their situation, especially with the way the boys seemed to become a fairly big part in Amelia's and his life. Well, not being able to solve the bigger issues, he at least could focus on the task at hand.

"Of course, Dean. Come in and I will set up the laptop for you in the kitchen. Sammy, would you like a hot chocolate while your brother does his homework?"

"Yes, please!" Sam shouted excitedly and bounced into the house not needing an official invitation.

Castiel went upstairs to get his laptop from his bedroom and headed back down, surprised at his own lack of annoyance at having his own work interrupted.

"Apologies Sammy, you will have to put up with my hot-chocolate makings skills; Amelia is still at the university. Just a fair warning, I don't normally prepare this kind of beverage."

"I can do it. I make it at home all the time," Sammy said proudly.

"That is acceptable," Castiel nodded and got the milk and chocolate powder down for the younger Winchester. He was warming up to these boys and had started to feel a bit less awkward around them. Like with everything in life, practice apparently did make perfect.

"Dean, would you care for a drink?"

Dean chuckled and smiled at Castiel. He had never met anyone that talked like this guy. It was like straight out of some old movie. The fact that Dean was relaxed enough to actually laugh so freely in the man's presence should have had him concerned. He didn't normally let his guard down this easy. He couldn't allow himself to, with having to make sure Sammy's ok, and that his dad wouldn't have to worry needlessly about them. His dad had enough to struggle with already. Yet, sometimes it was nice to just feel normal.

"I'll have some lemonade if there is any, thanks," he replied while getting out his notebook and pen, waiting for the laptop to start up. He observed Castiel as he poured some lemonade and then continued to make coffee for himself, the smell of which soon filling the kitchen. Dean realised he rather liked the smell of coffee. Maybe he would have to try drinking it one of these days, he contemplated as he pulled out his notebook and pen, groaning quietly. Homework was definitely something he could do without.

#

An hour later, Castiel made acquaintance with Dean's temperamental side, when his notebook flew across the room, accompanied by a frustrated, "I just don't get this, who needs this crap anyway," and promptly getting up off his chair and pacing the room.

Castiel had brought his own work down and sat at the other end of the table, with Sammy between them seemingly engrossed in a Harry Potter book. They both looked up, startled by the sudden outburst. But Sammy quickly found his composure again and returned to reading his book and Castiel guessed by his reaction that this was not the first time Dean felt challenged by his school work. Something he could not relate to in the slightest. He had always loved his work and loved the challenge of learning new things. But then again, he always had people he could ask for help when he got stuck, and Castiel was not so sure that this was the case for Dean. Also, he didn't know what to say. He did not want to exacerbate Dean's anger but to just ignore him felt wrong too.

"Can I have a look?" he asked calmly and to his relief Dean picked up the notebook and handed it over to him. "Feel free to knock yourself out." Dean's voice was still holding frustration and a fair amount of sarcasm in it and maybe Castiel should not let his tone of voice slip, but to tell him off for it would make him feel too much like his dad, and he had sworn to never turn into his old man.

Maths, more precisely algebra. Not Castiel's strong point but he had achieved a decent enough understanding of the subject. Part of it was solving some equations, and the second part was to answer an online test on the subject. He checked over what Dean had done so far, and saw where he had gone wrong. It was an easy mistake, most likely due to tiredness rather than lack of understanding.

Dean was hovering next to Castiel, seemingly calmer now and looking over his shoulder at the offending piece of paper.

"Do you want me to explain things to you?"

"Just say it. I'm not good at this maths business." Dean sounded so convinced of his own statement that Castiel felt a pang of rage. Not directed at anyone in particular (although Dean's dad did pop into his head), but more at the world in general. Just how could a boy who clearly was bright and on top of that one of the most caring people Castiel has ever met, think so little of himself? Someone down the line must have messed up bad. Dean clearly needed to have his confidence boosted and it should be the job of his parents and teachers, and Castiel couldn't shake the feeling that he just was not getting that. And a new protective streak that he had not previously known he possessed made itself known.

"No Dean. That was not what I meant. In fact, you started off really well, demonstrating a good understanding of the subject, just here…" he pointed at the line where things had started to go wrong.

"You didn't do the calculations in the right order and then afterwards, things didn't add up anymore, literally." Castiel motioned for Dean to sit down and felt the tension he hadn't even realised had built in his body, evaporate when the boy did, pulling up a chair and letting him explain things. He felt a not so small amount of pride for the older brother when he got it straight away and was able to finish the equations without any more outbursts.

Dean was halfway through his online test, when Amelia arrived home and smiled at the scene in front of her, not even questioning why the brothers where here. It was evident that they were doing homework, well Dean was, Sammy was wrapped up in a book, and her husband was buried behind his own stack of literature, making good use of his marker pen, as he tried to read three books simultaneously.

She knew she was allowing herself to get rather too attached to those boys but who could resist their charm, especially Sammy, with his unruly hair and exuberance for every moment, despite not having been dealt the best cards in life. But most of all it made her happy how Castiel had thawed; literally coming out of his shell that he had a tendency to hide behind Most noticeably, he didn't seem to mind having his routine interrupted quite so much anymore. It was something she had gently been trying to work on for a long time already. She counted that as a good sign. A win all around.

She made the boys some more hot chocolate while Dean finished off his test before sending the Winchesters home for the night.

#

Sometimes it still surprised Amelia and Castiel how fast the two brothers had become a part of their lives and how easily they had slotted themselves into their routine. After that night, the boys came round more regularly and the sight of either Sammy or Dean sitting in their kitchen doing homework was commonplace. But it was exactly for that reason that Castiel and Amelia were concerned for the Winchester boys and the apparent lack of involvement in their lives on their father's part. As much as they loved having them around, it did make them wonder what exactly it was their dad got up to and whether the kids were getting all the care and attention they needed.

But the one time they had as much as hinted at the idea of maybe getting some official agency involved to see if there is any help, financial or otherwise, that their dad could receive, Dean had gotten angry and defensive, only calming down when Sammy begged him to. He had told them in no uncertain terms that they didn't need any help, they managed just fine, and further, they didn't know their dad. Arguing that he was a good dad, just trying his best, and who was ever going to get things right 100% of the time anyway and who were they to judge. Then he stormed out, uncharacteristically leaving Sammy with them, coming back an hour later and literally dragging his brother back to their house, with a very loud "Let's go _home_, dad made us some dinner!", aimed at the two adults in the room.

Castiel had no idea whether that was actually the truth or not, but he had to admit that the comment stung just a little bit. More than it probably should. After all they were not their family. But was trying to help them and make sure they were ok really such a bad thing? Maybe that was why his parents always insisted on not getting involved in other people's business. And in the end, the boys' dad did provide a roof over their heads and food on the table as far as they knew. They spent the rest of the evening talking about it, and decided, for now, to let it go but to keep their options open should there ever be any indication of things being less than ok. After all, 'douchebag' in and off itself did probably not qualify as neglect.

Then, the next day Sammy was back just to say "Hi" like nothing had happened (and to probably get one of those hot chocolates he liked so much). Of course, wherever Sammy was, his brother was not far behind. When he came into the house Sammy gave him one of _those_ looks, and Dean actually apologised for his outburst (although it was apparent that it didn't come naturally to him) and just like that, they were back to normal.

#

It was raining outside. One of those real miserable early winter days, where the best thing would be to stay inside and wrap yourself up with some blankets and a hot drink, watching trashy television. Regardless, Dean and Sammy braved the elements to make the short walk across the road to the Novak house. Their dad was out, actually working for real and bringing in some well needed cash. Dean hoped this job would last longer than the last one, never quite giving up hope that their dad would manage to pull himself out of whatever hole he had fallen into.

They had 'worked off' the window a long time ago, yet spending Saturdays around Amelia's and Castiel's house had become somewhat of a ritual, helping here and there, doing their homework or just watching TV. Best of all, they were being fed and watered in the process. Dean knew Sammy loved this time of the week and if he would be really honest, he himself had started to look forward to Saturdays. Of course, he would justify that with having Sammy's best interests at heart, not because he enjoyed the warmth and attention, something that generally was lacking in their lives ever since that day, the day his life had changed forever.

Amelia's thoughts must have been along similar lines to Dean's with regards to what to do with a day like this, as once they were safely inside and the front door was firmly shut, she gently shoved them in the direction of the living room, where a fire was burning, giving the room a nice warm glow, and telling them to just sit down and watch some TV or choose a movie as, really, in this weather there was not much else to do.

"Castiel around?" Dean asked absent-mindedly and really, had no idea why he asked. He had not started to get attached to the weird man and his even weirder ways, of course not. Dean didn't do that kind of attachment. He was just used to seeing him around on Saturdays.

"Yes, in the study. In fact, why don't you go and have a look, it's finished now. I'm afraid I will be seeing a lot less of my husband now," Amelia laughed and Dean didn't need to be asked twice. He had helped paint the room, shown Castiel how to put down the fake wood flooring, and he was curious to see the finished product.

"Back in a sec," he informed his brother who already was going through the dvd collection and only grumbled at him in acknowledgement.

Dean stood in the doorway, not being able to muffle the small chuckle that escaped him. Castiel was buried deep between an assortment of books, marker pen in his mouth, and laptop balancing on his knees. He sometimes forgot how nerdy Castiel was. No wonder his little brother was getting on so well with him.

Castiel must have heard him, as he looked up from his book and raised and eyebrow at Dean, mumbling a "wut?" before he realised he still had the pen in his mouth and took it out.

"Like the glasses, you really rock the professor look," Dean smirked, amazed how easy he found conversation with the man at times, especially with him being an adult and all. Dean was used to keeping his distance, but something about Castiel's weird and unusual ways made him well, _interesting_, would be the right word to say, and that thought kind of left Dean at a loss as to why he would think that.

Then Castiel gave him another of those questioning looks, interlaced with one of his enigmatic, almost-but-not-quite smiles, one half of his upper lip curling up, and Dean all but grinned brightly.

"I shall take that as a compliment," he stated dryly. "So, do you like the finished product?" Castiel gave the small room a big brush with his hand.

Dean let his eyes sweep the room, filled with wall to wall bookshelves, which held more books than he thought possible anyone could read in a life-time, coming to rest on the comfortable armchair and coffee table, also laden with books. He nodded his head in silent appreciation. He could totally see how this would be nerd heaven for someone like Castiel.

"So, this is where you're going to hide out from out on," the teenager said, still standing in the doorway, not sure whether he was allowed into Castiel's holy place.

"Yes, welcome to my world. You know, you can come in if you want," he added after a second when he noticed Dean was hovering, which normally meant he was unsure of the appropriate protocol of action. He prided himself in having gotten better at deciphering those non verbal clues over the months.

Dean nodded and flopped himself down on the cosy armchair that was rested against the far corner of the room, surrounded by bookshelves.

"So what exactly is it you're doing here?" Dean asked after a moment. He had known Castiel for six months now but other than that he was studying something to do with history, he had never really enquired. He had no idea why the sudden interest in what Castiel was doing had surfaced in him (bringing him back to his earlier thought of finding the man 'interesting'), but maybe it was the fact that he and Amelia seemed to care enough about him and Sammy to put up with them when they really didn't need to, that made him realise he should try to get to know them on a more personal level. Hell, Sammy knew probably more about them than he did.

"Well, you would probably mainly call it 'boring stuff'. I am currently researching the influence of medieval lore into modern story telling." He smiled at the way Dean's eyes glossed over, like he was suddenly talking in a different language.

"Sorry, I tend to get carried away," Castiel chuckled.

"Na, it's cool. I mean, I get it, you're passionate about something and … just I never saw the appeal in digging around in the past. What's done is done and cannot be changed." Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"And while you're absolutely right, it is also important to bear in mind that we, both as individuals and as society as a whole, learn from our mistakes, grow from the experiences other people and cultures have gone through. You would be surprised how many times the same patterns of human interaction, and failure, seem to be repeating themselves over and over again. The players may change but the concepts and interworkings remain scarily similar. In a way, I'd say we all might be better off as a society if more people heeded and learned from history's mistakes."

Dean let those words sink in. He guessed if you looked at it from that angle, Castiel had a point. He randomly picked up a book that lay on the small table next to the armchair and flipped it open.

"An Introduction to Greek Mythology," he read out loud.

"Oh, this you actually might enjoy," Castiel said enthusiastically.

"I don't do books," Dean replied even as he flipped open the pages and looked at the first chapter.

"Well, maybe now is the time to try new things. Honestly, most of these stories are the backbones of what you read and see on TV and in movies these days. Mainly the good old fight of good versus evil, trials and tribulations, just set in a different time and place."

Dean huffed, still not convinced but flicked through the first couple of pages regardless and started reading.

Castiel smiled fondly, he always loved to pass on his passion for history. So far Dean had seemed rather disinterested in what exactly it was he was doing, but he was pleased that he seemed to be taking an interest now. When he noticed that Dean had actually started reading for real, he turned back to his own research, a big smile on his face.

#

"Dean."

"_Dean_!"

"Mhhh," Dean mumbled, still buried in the book and currently reading the story about Odysseus and the Trojan Wars. This stuff wasn't half bad, he had to admit.

"Wow, I never pegged you for a book worm, be careful or Sammy will get jealous," Castiel teased.

"Oh …" Dean looked up from his book, taking in Castiel's amused face and wasn't sure whether to be offended by it or not. He settled on just giving him a cheesy smile, cocking his eyebrow. It would take more than being found out enjoying an actual book to get Dean Winchester flushed.

"What time is it?" Dean asked, feeling a bit disorientated, it was not often he lost track of time like he apparently had.

"It's gone 1pm and Amelia just called us down for some lunch."

"You mean I read for three hours straight?" Dean sounded like this fact offended him.

"Yes." Castiel was unable to hide his smirk at this stage and Dean squirmed.

"Oh my god, please don't tell Sammy! I'll never hear the end of it."

"By the way, where is Sammy?" Castiel only now realised that he had not set eyes on the younger brother all morning. Something that was most unusual, as wherever Dean was, Sammy was always close behind.

"He probably got absorbed in some movie or other, I think he got a bit overwhelmed with all the choices." Dean chuckled finally putting the book down.

"No, Dean, please, keep it." Castiel offered and Dean considered, eyeing he book suspiciously.

"You don't have to, I mean…"

"Dean, take it, please. If you haven't noticed, I might have the odd book to spare," he said smirking at Dean. "And anyway, seeing you enjoy it is worth a lot more than this book."

Dean was speechless for a second and damn, now he did feel flustered. How could someone be as happy over something as simple as seeing someone else enjoy a book? Then he remembered the way he sometimes felt when he watched Sammy absorbed in one of his books, tongue lolling out and looking lost to the world, and he got it. Still, Sammy was his brother and he loved him. But who was he to Castiel? Just a kid that happened to break his window and who he now was stuck with for some reason. Why would he care whether he enjoyed anything?

Dean picked up the book and took a long hard look at it. He was not used to accepting 'charity' from other people, although part of him knew that that was not why Castiel offered the book to him. But it was easier to think of it that way, rather than making himself believe that Castiel actually cared for him in any meaningful way. And part of him felt accepting this would make him be indebted to Castiel. It was ingrained in him not to owe people anything, to be self reliant.

But, for once he actually wanted to find out what would happen with this whole Trojan horse idea and also, if he was being honest, he enjoyed putting a smile of Castiel's face. And he was still looking at him encouragingly. Ah, screw this, he wanted the damn book!

"Thanks," he said and was not able to hide his smile, now that the decision had been made, it felt nice to be given a present and Dean already knew he would be sitting cross-legged on the bed tonight, hidden under the blanket and torch in hand, reading a goddamn book. Once Sammy was asleep, that was. He would not hear the end of it should his brother find out he was actually enjoying reading. He had to uphold his standards after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** So this chapter ended up a lot more intense than I had planned, I put the blame firmly with Gabriel, who just wanted to be a dick and won. But extra drama is always good, I guess.

* * *

Chapter 3

"Come on, I want you to listen to something!" Dean bounced excitedly on the heels of his feet, just short of grabbing Castiel by the wrist and pulling him out the door. He didn't even allow him time to put on a coat. Castiel couldn't help but be intrigued by what had Dean so excited. He had never seen him this animated. With a quick "I'll be back in a second" aimed at the general direction of his wife somewhere in the house, he followed the boy out, immediately realising that a coat actually would have been a good idea in the cold December air, but followed him across the road to his house regardless.

"Wait here," Dean said, coming to a stop in front of the black old-timer. Castiel raised an eyebrow questioningly as Dean pulled out the keys to the car and without hesitation unlocked the door and sitting himself behind the wheel.

"Erm, Dean?! I don't think you are of legal age to be driving a car," Castiel all but squawked. He had no idea what Dean was up to but no way was he aiding and abetting in some underage joy riding.

Dean just laughed and shook his head at Castiel. "Dude, I know that. Just, listen!" he exclaimed, the grin on his face getting even bigger as he turned the key and the car came to life with a low, loud rumbling noise that startled the older man.

"Isn't that the most beautiful sound you've ever heard?" Dean popped his head out the window he had rolled down and grinned like Christmas had come early.

Castiel didn't quite know how to reply to that. To him it was just noise. Loud noise. If his car would be making that kind of racket, he would be sure to bring it to a garage to have it checked over. Still, to Dean it seemed like music and his smile was catching.

"I … guess so?" Castiel answered, still eyeing the monster of a car suspiciously, yet smiling back at the boy.

"Man, should have guessed, you're not the car loving type." Dean chuckled as he pulled the key out of the ignition and got out the car again.

"Well, I certainly can appreciate their benefit in as far as getting you from A to B without having to rely on public transport. But, no, not really," Castiel agreed, suddenly feeling a bit foolish, like he _should_ know about cars and was being shown up by a thirteen year old. But at least it was not any teenager. Dean had proven himself to be very clever as well as versatile and handy in all sorts of areas, now apparently adding being a mechanic to that list. Subsequently, Castiel's ego remained relatively intact.

"But, I thought your car was not working?" he remembered having asked about the car before and Dean having said it wasn't in working condition.

"Well, now it does! Dad and I spent a few nights on the engine and now it purrs like a kitten."

At that Castiel laughed. He could think of many other descriptions for that noise other than 'purring'. But before he could conjure up a long list of exactly what, the fact that Dean had been working on it with his dad got his attention.

"Your dad knows about cars then?" He didn't want to pry too much as he had experienced before how quickly Dean could shut down when asked about his family but he was curious nonetheless and Dean seemed to be in a sharing mood.

"Yes, he learned it from Uncle Bobby. Well, Bobby's not really our uncle, but we call him that anyway. He's an old friend of the family. We don't see him very often any more. He's too far away now. When they were younger he taught my dad how to fix up cars and dad had always promised that one day we would get the Impala to work. It was a total wreck when we got it from Bobby a few years ago. And then, with mom's accident and everything, he didn't really have the time to spend on the car." Dean's face fell temporarily, and just like that, he had Castiel's full attention. It wasn't often that the boy opened up about anything to do with his mom. It was Sammy who had told them at one point that their mom had died in a car crash. Dean generally avoided the topic altogether.

There was a temporary tension in the air as Dean suddenly looked so vulnerable and much younger than his cocky thirteen year old self, and Castiel was unsure of how to proceed. Should he press for more information, give him a comforting pat on the back or just ignore this? It took Dean but a second to get control of his emotions again and soon enough his trade mark smirk was back on his face. But Castiel would not forget that lost look on his face anytime soon. There had been too much hurt and loneliness in it, a look no kid of Dean's age should possess. And for a moment Castiel was grateful for his own family, no matter how strict and weird it was and how much he'd normally rather be apart than with them. At least they were all still alive and in their own way, Castiel knew they cared for him.

Dean's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Well, he had too much on his plate but since he's got the new job, he's really feeling better and started to work on the engine with me." The teenager patted the car affectionately. "Soon we can take it out on a spin, and he promised me when I'm sixteen I can have the car. Isn't that amazing? Just imagine, Castiel, taking a trip down the road in THIS."

Dean's excitement was infectious. Castiel smiled at the way Dean just came to life when talking about the car. He felt moved that he actually had thought it worthwhile sharing this clearly very important thing in his life with him. Also, their dad finally stepping up to the plate and spending some quality time with his boys was good news. Dean deserved some happiness.

"Yes, I can see that. The car will suit you," Castiel joked, but he could actually see Dean sitting in the car, driving down a long open road, just enjoying the drive.

"Promise you get first dibs on a ride, after Sammy that is." Dean chuckled before his eyes went wide in realisation. At what point had the idea of Castiel (and by proxy Amelia) in their lives become a constant to Dean? He felt a temporary pang of panic at this revelation. He should not allow himself to go down that road. People ultimately either disappoint or leave. Or life was being a bitch and tore someone right from under your nose and out of your life. Like having some stupid drunken bastard crash into them in the middle of the road while they were just going about their business. Dean had to swallow back the emotions that were threatening to surface. And Castiel was looking at him with his steely blue eyes like he could see right through him and it unnerved Dean all of a sudden.

"You're ok?" Dean had already anticipated the question, the crack in his veneer obvious. The day had started so well, when did it turn into this emotional mess? He swallowed hard and put on his practiced smile, nodding.

"Why wouldn't I? Just look at this awesome beauty, plus it's Christmas in a few days and Sammy is so excited. Dad got us a real tree and Sammy spent all of yesterday decorating it, almost pulling the damn thing over in his excitement." And just like that his fake grin turned into a real one. Just remembering his dork of a brother balancing on a chair, insisting it should be him putting the Christmas angel on top was enough to chase any dread away. He was so happy that Sammy would be getting a proper Christmas this year, not the warmed up stew and poor excuse for a tree he had to put up with last year because their dad had been on a two day bender, not being able to face Christmas.

Dean had worked out his father's patterns over the years. Family occasions like birthdays and Christmas always brought out the worst in him; apparently he felt the loss of his wife worst at those times. And Dean, determined to not let Sammy suffer because of it, had picked up the reigns and did his best to give him something to remember anyway. Maybe this year it really would be the first time in over three years they would manage to all celebrate together.

Castiel had a mirroring grin on his face, imagining Sammy balancing and refusing to let anyone help him. He had come to admire that about the kid. His sheer determination to try new things and not to give up even if he got it wrong the first time.

"Maybe Sammy could come and decorate our Christmas tree for us," Castiel chuckled, not exactly knowing where that had come from.

"Oh man! I bet he'd love to. I'll tell him when he gets back. He and dad are out clothes shopping right now."

Castiel nodded, he had wondered where Dean's brother was, but hearing he's out with their dad was good. Maybe he should actually try to reintroduce himself to their father, now that he seemed to be more amenable. Perhaps he really did just catch him at a bad time all those months ago.

"Of course you're invited too. Just come over whenever, and if your dad wants to, he could come along as well."

"I'll ask him. Although probably we'll come over while he's off to work, if that's ok." Dean was not so sure yet, meeting their dad was a good idea, but maybe if their dad continued to stay off the alcohol for a bit longer. For now he was just happy Sammy would be getting the Christmas he deserved.

"Ok, I will see you later then. But if I don't go back inside now, I'm afraid I might turn into an icicle."

"Of course, sorry, Castiel. I, - you really should have put on a coat." Dean took in the shivering form of the man in front of him. Lips already turned a slight colour of blue.

"Well, you were, rather persuasive that this was a life or death situation." Castiel cocked his head and Dean realised he might have maybe been a bit overenthusiastic about the car.

"Sorry, I swear next time I'll give you time to grab a coat." Dean laughed and watched the retreating form of Castiel until he was back safely inside his house. Dean got back in the car, revving the engine up again, just because he could do that now, and enjoyed the amazing sound coming from his baby.

#

He had not expected that the next occasion requiring Dean to drag him out of his house and into the cold would come quite so soon. Also, he had not foreseen that it would be under much more dire circumstances than the last time.

It was the afternoon of Christmas day, and Castiel currently had to sit through an excruciating Christmas lunch with Balthazar and Gabriel, plus their wives and four children, who were testing his patience. They were nothing like Sammy and Dean. They were loud and obnoxious and self entitled, just like their parents, and Castiel could imagine exactly what those kids would be like in twenty years' time.

From the moment they had set foot in his and Amelia's home, they had been on a roll about the awful neighbourhood, and dire state of the house (they should have seen it when they first moved here, Castiel thought indignantly, being rather proud of all the work that they had done to the place over the last few months.) Balthazar was not shutting up about the fact that surely they could have afforded somewhere (anywhere) better, and whether he should be scared leaving his brand new Toyota out the front drive, basically being his pompous self.

Why Amelia put up with him and his stupid family he would never understand but he was eternally grateful for it. At least they were spared the full-on Novak experience, well, at least until New Year's Eve, when everyone was expected back at the Novak family home for the annual family gathering. It should have been Christmas as per previous years, but Raphael and his wife were currently overseas and could not make it back in time for Christmas, Anna had just given birth to her second child, and their mother had decided that she should stay with her and help her in the first couple of weeks.

Still, two brothers for two days was a challenge. Gabriel was getting more obnoxious the more eggnog he guzzled, pulling Castiel's leg over the fact that he hadn't managed to knock up his wife yet. Castiel knew exactly where that jab was aimed at. Gabriel was the only one who knew about his _predisposition_. Castiel had been unlucky enough to have been under the scrutiny of his brother one evening as the family had gathered together to watch some drama on TV. He had gotten very hot and uncomfortable, as he watched the scene of two men kissing on screen unfold, shocked and embarrassed at feeling himself getting aroused and desperately trying to hide this fact from the rest of the family.

Unfortunately he had not managed to escape Gabriel's observational skills. His older brother had cornered him later that evening, saying he would keep his 'dirty little secret' and that he couldn't care less what he got up to in his spare time. He had advised him to get it out of his system, as long as he understood that one day he would be expected to find a nice girl and settle down because there was no way their parents would accept a 'fag' in their family. Well, how could he have not understood that! As if the way their parents had been dismissing the scene and went on about 'what this country was coming to, showing these unnatural urges on prime time television', had not been clear enough.

Castiel remembered this all like it was yesterday, especially the way that word had stung. And even after all these years, having done everything that had been expected of him, married and settled, Gabriel still couldn't let it slide. He really was insufferable even when sober, and paired with alcohol he just became infinitely annoying.

So when there was a loud knock on the door ('Really, Castiel, you haven't even installed a doorbell yet?!'), Castiel initially couldn't have been happier to have this little party broken up. That lasted for all but 2.5 seconds, until he set eyes on a red eyed and panic stricken Dean.

"Dean? Is everything ok?"

"Have you seen Sammy?" Dean's voice was frantic, drawing the attention of Castiel's brothers who were not even hiding the fact that they were prying, standing in the hallway, raising their eyebrows at the weird arrival at the door.

"No, why… what happened?"

"Sammy ran off. He and dad had a big fight because work called and needed dad to come in as half the staff was ill and Sammy just snapped and left. I thought maybe he went to yours." Dean looked up and noticed the accumulation of unfamiliar faces behind Castiel.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. I just…" Dean was already retreating and walking off down the road when Castiel shouted after him. He had exchanged a quick glance with his wife and she had given him a silent nod, as he grabbed his coat and followed Dean.

"Dean, wait. I'll help you look for him," he yelled, running up to the boy.

Dean stopped and looked at Castiel, gobsmacked. "Why… I mean, really you don't have to. I didn't want to interrupt your Christmas."

"Dean, I'm offering. I know how much you care for Sammy, and believe it or not, so do we. And we care about _you_. No way am I letting you run around this neighbourhood alone on Christmas day. It's almost dark."

Dean would not cry, no, he would not. But his nerves were just so frayed from seeing his dad and brother fight, from worry of not knowing where Sammy was and the fact that yet again, they would be on their own at Christmas, that he couldn't help a tear escape.

"Dean, just accept the help," Castiel implored.

"Thanks," Dean gave a small nod, a chocked up sob escaping him. He wiped his eyes, finding his emotional balance again and focused on the task at hand.

There was no sign of Sammy anywhere. Where would an upset nine year old kid even run to? Castiel's and Amelia's place had been Dean's best bet and now he and the older man were just walking the streets randomly, asking the odd person that was actually out on this day, whether they had spotted an upset nine year old with long brown hair and venturing into the few shops that were open today.

They hadn't even realised how far they had walked and before long found themselves in the part of their neighbourhood that Castiel normally tried to avoid. Still, maybe Sammy had run to here not knowing where to go. Castiel spotted a group of young men, huddling around a barrel, warming their hands on the fire that was burning inside.

He didn't even spare a thought about any possible danger as he walked up to them and asked in a friendly fashion whether they had noticed a kid of about so high, with unruly brown hair in the neighbourhood. These kids couldn't have been much older than Dean, Castiel judged by their looks but that was where the comparisons stopped. They started to sneer at him, making fun of the way he was talking and he could swear they were drunk.

Dean was walking out of the newsagents he had gone inside of to ask if they had seen Sammy, scanning the road for Castiel, his mind going immediately into fight or flight mode when he noticed the way the gang was starting to crowd in on Castiel. He was quickly making his way across the road when he saw a flash of silver and he knew immediately that Castiel was in danger.

"Castiel, RUN!" he shouted, as he watched one of the kids pull out the knife. Castiel jerked his head around, looking at Dean, about to question his outburst. But the sheer panic in the boy's eyes made him do exactly as he was told, and he took off. Both of them ran down the street, hearing the array of footsteps behind them. Luckily both he and Dean were fast runners and after a minute or so the gang thought it pointless trying to keep up with them. Still, they carried on until they felt a safe enough distance away. Castiel, by now out of breath, leaning against a wall and promising to himself that he would have to think about joining a gym or take up running.

Dean suddenly burst out half laughing, half crying. Castiel initially wasn't sure which it was. "Man. You really aren't very street wise are you?" he rasped out between trying to catch his breath.

Castiel could feel his own laughter bubbling up inside his throat. The whole surrealism of the situation suddenly hitting him and threatening to spill out in hysterical laughter. "I agree," he managed before he did just that, leaning against the wall in fits of giggles.

"That was, well, exhilarating," Castiel gasped, having trouble to get in enough air.

"That's one way of putting it." Dean was half bent over, resting his hands on his legs and breathing hard. He looked up at Castiel and his face fell.

"Shit, you're bleeding." Dean's panicked voice rang through the empty street as he scrambled to Castiel's side and looked at his arm, where a stain of blood had formed on his beige trenchcoat.

"Oh," was all the man was able to say as he stared in shock at his arm, and the cut in the material of the coat. He had never been injured in a fight before and his brain had trouble processing that concept.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry." Dean grabbed Castiel's arm, inspecting the cut. "I'm so sorry, I should have not brought you along, I'm so sorry Cas." Dean knew he was panicking over nothing, it was clearly only a cut, but he could not help it. He had put this man in danger, had roped him into his family's problems and as always, people got hurt.

"I'm sorry Cas," he kept repeating over and over until he felt strong warm hands on either side of his face pulling it up, so he had no choice but to look into Castiel's blue eyes.

"Dean, it's ok. Look at me, it's ok." His steady low voice starting to work its way under Dean's skin and making him calm down. Also those eyes, looking at him full of concern and warmth, and how had Dean never realised quite how blue they actually were?

Castiel was still mumbling things to him but he could not pay attention, instead being drawn in by the man's eyes.

"Hey, Dean, you're with me?" Castiel had removed his hands from Dean's face and was gently shaking him at the shoulders.

"What? I mean, yes, I'm ok, but you Cas, your arm."

"I'm no expert but I'm sure it's only a surface wound. I bet once it's all cleaned up I'll be as good as new, maybe have a blood-test just to be sure, but it will be fine, Dean, don't worry."

"No Cas, I should not have brought you, it was not your problem…"

"Dean, please. You did not do anything wrong. And I'm glad you came to me for help, made it my problem, because you should not shoulder this alone. And can I tell you a secret?" he said smiling at Dean, who nodded curiosity getting the better of him.

"I should thank you for saving me from a dreadful dinner experience. This was so much more 'fun'." And Dean chuckled at the actual air quotes Castiel used. "Seriously, I don't know how long it would have been before I would have throttled one of them."

And the very sincere look Castiel shot his way, the 'I'm dead serious about this' look, gave Dean no other option but to laugh, the tension and panic leaving his body.

"Also… Cas?" Castiel asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow at Dean. And for a second Dean just looked confused before realisation dawned on his face, a face that was suddenly feeling very much too warm.

"Oh, yeah. Well – it's just something I kinda started calling you in my head. You know, Castiel is a bit of a mouthful and… that ok?" Dean stammered suddenly feeling very foolish.

Castiel just laughed. "Why wouldn't it? Although I don't think anyone has ever called me that."

"What? No nicknames?" Dean didn't quit get it. He understood people not really shortening his name, well not much to shorten there but really?

"No, my family is rather formal and we're not big on names of endearment and Amelia, well, she somehow took to calling me Cassie." Cas shrugged, and Dean chuckled, "Yeah, I noticed."

They were interrupted by Castiel's phone going off. It was Amelia informing them that Sam had showed up at their house about five minutes ago, shivering and cold but otherwise ok and that he wanted his brother. Dean let out a relieved sigh at the news and could feel his earlier worry turning into anger, and he was sure he needed to give his brother a good telling off for running out on him like that. But even with this good news, he couldn't help being concerned for Castiel.

"You think we need to stop off at the hospital?" Dean asked pointing at the man's arm.

Castiel examined the cut, blood already coagulated at its edges and shook his head.

"No, don't think so. But I should probably not leave it much longer to clean it out. Come on kiddo, let's go home and see your brother," Castiel said, loosely slinging his arm around Dean, still somewhat high on adrenaline from all that had happened in the last half an hour and less formal than he would normally be. Dean nodded and let himself be led down the street, resting his head against Cas' arm. He had no idea why, but the term 'kiddo' bothered him. He was not a kid anymore, hell he was what kept their family together, he had nothing in common with those snotty stupid pre-pubescent thirteen year olds, and he hoped Cas of all people would be able to see that.

#

Once the Winchester boys had been reunited, Sammy sufficiently hugged and told off by his brother, Castiel's wound cleaned up and the virtually new coat put in the recycling (much to Castiel's dismay), Amelia had been adamant the boys stay for some Christmas food and wouldn't take no for an answer.

She put them in the spare bedroom, where the rest of the kids were watching TV and Dean had not been too happy about that. He rather would have stayed with Cas, still feeling guilty for what had happened and wanting to make sure the man was ok. And maybe he had been hovering a bit while they cleaned up Cas' arm, but Castiel didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, Dean had the impression he valued his company, especially once his brothers started to open their mouths. They really were dicks and Dean didn't much like them at all and he might have glared at them a bit. He hated the way they were treating Cas, winding him up and rattling his chain. After five minutes of observing, Dean understood exactly what Castiel had meant when he said he had been glad for the rescue.

On top of that, the other kids were a good few years younger than him and seemed like spoilt brats, not really paying him or Sammy any attention other than an initial curious look at who the two intruders were. Dean definitely felt too old to be sitting at the 'kids' table' but he knew Amelia meant well and also the adults probably had stuff to talk about. Plus he didn't want to leave Sammy on his own, so he made himself comfortable next to his brother and tried to enjoy the film that was on.

Castiel was standing at the kitchen sink, having slunk out of the living room, and pouring himself a well deserved glass of Brandy. He really had enough. His brothers were not letting go of the fact that he got himself 'stabbed' and if that was not a clear sign for them to move away from here they didn't know what Castiel was waiting for. Of course their 'perfect' wives all but agreed with them. All the 'wait until mom hears about this' and 'what are those kids to you anyway, this is supposed to be a family occasion', was still ringing in his ears. He heard footsteps approaching and knew instantly it was Gabriel. He had spent many years growing up getting accustomed to each of his siblings' individual shuffle.

"So, you're into picking up strays now? Seriously, can't get your own brood and what, just take someone else's?" He said condescendingly while pouring his own drink and leisurely slumping himself down on a kitchen chair.

"Don't call them that. You don't even know them. They're good kids." Castiel was not in the mood for this. He could see on Gabriel's face that he was here to get a reaction out of him, it used to be his favourite pastime when they were younger and Castiel already knew he would give it to him. He was too tired, too cold and too goddamn upset with the world and its unfairness as a whole right now to be reasonable.

"Oh touchy, bro. But honestly, haven't they got their own family to spend Christmas with?"

"Guess what Gabriel. Not everyone is as lucky us. Some people actually have to work at Christmas and haven't got a whole lot of family as backup. And in case it might have escaped you, Christmas time is actually a time where we should care for other people, as much as that concept might be alien to you. And really, if you haven't got anything useful to say, just keep your opinions to yourself!" This was probably the most vocal he had ever been with his older brother, and it felt good. Maybe a near death experience (ok, he knew he was being dramatic but whatever) was all that he needed to finally find the balls to stand up to his brothers.

Gabriel let out a huff of laughter, as always turning everything into a joke, and took a big gulp of his drink.

"Look who's finally all grown up. About time bro. Just a word of warning," Gabriel leaned dramatically across the table, staring straight at his younger brother, wiggling his eyebrows mysteriously. "I don't know _what_ it is that's going on between you and that kid but it's not good."

"Nothing is going on there. WHAT are you even implying?" Castiel snapped back, glaring at his brother. "Oh wait… right!" Anger was working itself across Castiel's face. "The weird one, the one with the _abnormal_ urges, of course just wants to get inside some kids pants. Because we are all just _sick_, right? That what you're implying?" Castiel was livid, even for his brother that was a low blow.

"Relax, 'm not implying anything. Honestly, believe it or not little bro, I'm just trying to look out for you. I know the look on that boy's face when he looks at you and it ain't good. You can be a bit naïve at the best of times, and well, he wouldn't be the first - what is he - fifteen year old to want to find himself a sugar daddy."

"He is THIRTEEN," Castiel shouted way too loud for such a private conversation, flinching at his own tone. "And he is not like that, and I am not into that. Screw you for even thinking that about him. AND I'm married. What else do you want me to do? Can't you ever leave this alone?" Castiel stormed out of the kitchen and straight into his study, into his world. His books and research made him feel safe, in control and right now he was really in need of both, before he would go and sock his brother. Apparently no matter what he did, this would always follow him. But Gabriel had really sunk to a new low, even implying he would be able to take advantage of another human being like that.

He had no idea how much time had gone by when he heard a timid knock on the door.

"If that's you Gabriel, I don't have anything else to say to you." He snarled. The door opened regardless and Castiel was just about to open his mouth to shout at his brother when he was met with the nervous gaze of Dean. Immediately his face relaxed and he gave the kid a small smile.

"Hey. I'm, we're about to head home and I just wanted to say, you know, thank you again, and … how's the arm?"

Castiel let out a bitter laugh. He actually had forgotten about his arm, being too angry at his brother. "The arm's fine, I think." He held it out for Dean to have a look and satisfy his own curiosity.

"Tough night? That why you're hiding in here?" Dean said after shuffling his feet for a moment, not really wanting to leave.

"Would you believe me if I said I had to work?" Castiel asked, working his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in funny directions.

"No," Dean simply said and Castiel really appreciated Dean's bluntness.

"Well, family. Can't live with them, can't live without them." Then, after looking at Dean and smiling at him fondly, he added, "you and Sammy, what you have is special, I wish me and my brothers could be like that, even just a bit."

"Oh, we fight plenty," Dean huffed amused.

"Yeah, but you also have each other's back and it is evident how much you care for each other. Me, I sometimes wonder whether my only purpose in this family is to serve as entertainment for my brothers. Sorry, I shouldn't burden you with my issues. You were about to go home. Will you father be back from work?"

"Think so, but either way, Sammy has to be in bed by nine so yeah, I better go. Bye Cas." Dean said smiling at the man and adding a little wave before leaving.

"Bye Dean," Castiel replied, suddenly feeling very tired by the whole day's events and just wanting to hit the pillow. He knew he had to go down and say goodnight to all of them, to at least keep a little face. Also he didn't want to upset his wife more than she probably already was by his behaviour earlier. Most of all, he just wanted to forget that the last couple of hours ever happened. Well, he survived twenty-six years with his family; he surely could survive another day with two of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

"This is so unfair!"

"Son, you stop that tone of voice with me right now or,"

"Why can't I go? Everyone else is going!" The youngest Winchester yelled, stomping his little feet.

"Sammy, please, calm down," Dean implored, trying to diffuse the quickly charging atmosphere, knowing how fast this could get out of hand. His brother and father always knew how to press each others' buttons, even from when Sammy was still quite small. Dean, in the absence of their mom, had learned to serve as a buffer but that didn't mean he was always successful.

"No Dean, he just doesn't give a shit," Sammy pointed a small, rigid finger at their dad.

"Watch your language, young man," their dad's thunderous voice echoed through the kitchen (and Dean could make out the slight slur to his voice and that was never a good sign).

"Sammy, listen," Dean leaned down, putting him at eye level with his brother. "We just don't have the money to let you go on that trip, you should understand that."

"And whose fault is that, Dean?" Sam said while glaring at their dad who was glaring back at his youngest.

"Sammy," the older brother hissed, warning evident in his voice but too late.

"Samuel Winchester, I will NOT be spoken to like that, and …."

"I'm not stupid," Sammy all but shouted now. "I know where all the money goes, hard to miss the empty bottles."

'Oh god', was all that went through Dean's head, immediately followed by 'shut up Sammy'. He could see their dad go red in the face and wished it was from embarrassment but knew it was from hot rage that was fast building. There was a reason Dean never brought up any alcohol related issues. Also, a part of him broke at that moment. As much as he hated to see his dad and his brother fight, and there had been plenty of those in the past, the fact that Sammy knew; knew about the drinking, despite Dean's best efforts to cover up any slips on their old man's behalf, made him feel sick. All he wanted was for his brother to have a 'normal' childhood, whatever the hell that actually was, and not having to deal with and worry about stuff he shouldn't need to.

Their father had been doing so well, but Dean had suspected for a while that he had started hitting the bottle again, round about the time of the anniversary of their mom's death. Really, he should have seen it coming and he cursed himself for having been so stupid, for having believed that things had actually improved for good and letting his guard slip.

"Sammy, come on, don't be like that, you know the times are tough." He tried again to calm his brother down, who was going full-on tantrum on their dad now.

"Dean, stay out of this, I can handle my son." Their father snapped at him and Dean flinched, quickly shutting his mouth.

"And you, young man," John was talking a step closer to Sam. "You are grounded for disrespecting your father, and there will be NO trip, because it's a pointless trip anyway, ferrying a bunch of ten year olds halfway around the state just to look at some animals."

"But it's part of the curriculum," Sammy protested.

"You can look up anything you need to know on the internet, it's called research."

"But I want to go," Sammy whined, angry tears staining his face.

"You're not going and that is the end of this discussion. Go to your room now and don't dare come out until I tell you to."

"I hate you, I wish you were dead!" Sammy shouted as he raced up the stairs and banged the door.

Those words cut Dean like a dagger had been plunged in his heart. No matter what, you do not wish one of your parents dead. Especially with the loss of one of them still haunting the house. Maybe he should be thankful that Sammy appeared to have gotten over/dealt well with the loss of their mom, quite possibly having been too young to remember the good times, the way this house was just different, warmer while their mom was still around. But Dean felt the loss, sometimes felt like he had lost two parents that day, despite one of them standing right in front of him. John was clenching his jaw and was clearly fighting with himself not to storm after his youngest son. Dean just stood frozen to the spot, looking at his dad warily.

"What?" John snapped.

"Nothing," Dean said trying not to sound as defensive as he felt right now. He knew better than to wave a red flag in front of an angry bull.

"You got something to say, say it to my face, be a man."

"No, everything is alright, sir." Dean straightened up, swallowed down the myriad of emotions whirling inside of him and gave his dad a firm nod.

"Good." With that his dad opened the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of JD, pouring a generous helping into a glass. Dean wanted nothing more than to take that bottle out of his hand and smash it into a thousand pieces, but he knew where that would lead. He could feel angry tears welling up, and needed to get out of here. Crying was for babies and girls, as his dad would remind him, if he ever saw him cry that was.

"May I leave?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

His dad turned around, looking for a second like he had forgotten his son was actually there with him.

"Oh, yes you may. I will have to be in work at 6 though, so be back by then, Sammy will need you."

Dean could only hope that that was the truth at least, and that their dad managed to hold on to his job, but without rocking the boat further there was no sure way of finding out. But him drinking at this time of day was not a good sign. Dean nodded as he left the room in as calm a fashion as he could muster, although the wanted nothing more than to run, which he did as soon as he opened the front door.

The cool spring air hit him and he realised it was raining but he didn't care. He just needed some air and to work off his frustration, the overload of emotions that was making him feel like he wanted to punch something. He felt bad for leaving Sammy behind but he would be fine in his room, brooding, and Dean just needed to clear his head.

Not knowing where to go he just started to run down the road and revelling in the first feeling of burn in his lungs as he started to sprint way too fast. He poured every ounce of his anger, his frustration, his feeling of helplessness into each pounding press of his shoes against the tarmac, propelling him forward faster. He had no idea when tears had started to fall, but he could feel the wetness against his cheeks, and not all of that was from the slight smattering of rain. All he wanted was for his dad and his brother to get along, for whatever was left of his family to be a unit and not to feel like it was constantly him against the world. How could he function with the fear of his family falling apart at the seams?

"Dean?" a voice made him come to a stop, taking in big gulps of air as he turned and looked into familiar blue eyes.

"Are you ok?" Castiel asked concerned, leaning out of the rolled down window of his car, having come to a stop next to the boy.

"I – yes I'm ok," Dean said flatly, looking away from Cas and quickly giving his eyes a rub with his hands.

"Dean," Cas gave him one of those looks that call 'bullshit'. Dean should really give him more credit than that. He knew he lacked in social skills but he had spent enough time with the thirteen year old to be able to read his moods. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Dean grunted, he did not want to talk about this, talking about feelings was for sissies, also it would just make the whole thing somehow seem more real, and Dean could do without that.

Castiel kept piercing him with his gaze, with those eyes that had it in them to unnerve him in ways no one else managed. Dean shifted uncomfortably, but to his relief Cas just nodded his head after a second, although Dean had a feeling he wasn't fooled.

"Get in; you're going to get soaked." Castiel motioned to the passenger side and Dean suddenly became aware of how ridiculous he must look, running down the street in the rain, without a jacket and he was sure, despite his best efforts, that his eyes were red rimmed. And as much as part of him didn't want the company, just wanted to be alone with all his misery, another part just felt a natural pull towards the man and his warm, concerned smile, like he actually cared about him and Dean hated himself for still doubting Castiel on occasion. He had proven time and time again that he, for whatever crazy reason, really did care about him and Sammy.

"Ok," he tried to force a smile and walked around the back of the car sitting himself down next to Castiel.

There was an uncomfortable silence spreading between them, as Dean just stared out the window, which was fast steaming up thanks to his damp clothes and Castiel looked at Dean, studying the boy like he was one of his university projects he needed to work out. He was pretty sure that something had shaken up the boy real bad. Also he was wondering why Dean was not actually at school, but he had come to know Dean, and probing for information would just get the opposite result. Maybe all Dean needed was a friendly face and not some inquisition.

"Hungry?"

"What?" Dean's head turned, looking at Cas surprised. Where did that come from?

"I don't know about you but I haven't had any lunch yet and could do with a bite to eat."

"Aren't you - busy?" Dean took in Castiel's attire, all official, shirt and tie and some kind of brownie type blazer, that really made him look like the nutty professor Dean liked to think of him as.

"Not really. I was just on my way home. I survived my first lecture today."

"Oh, so are you like, a proper professor now?"

Castiel laughed. "No, that is still a few years in the making, and wholly dependent on me actually ever finishing that thesis of mine."

"But, you like work on that thesis night and day." And quite possibly Dean should be questioning the fact that he knew this, but there was no point really. He had spent quite a few Saturday afternoons during the winter months, curled up on the armchair in Castiel's study, reading (he had admitted defeat in that department, so he enjoyed reading certain books, shoot him!) and watching Castiel work, switching between typing furiously on his laptop and leafing through book after book. Sometimes Sammy had joined him, sitting at his feet and absorbed in one of his own books, but other times he had been off doing artsy stuff with Amelia, and if Dean thought about it too much he probably would start panicking at how domestic their whole interaction with the Novak's had become. Dean, on more than one occasion had wanted to ask Castiel, why they put up with him and his brother, but for fear of putting the spotlight on the situation and make them change their minds, he never did.

"Well, it will be about 800 pages when all done so," Castiel carried on, not aware of Dean's little trip down memory lane.

"800 pages!" Dean's eyes went comically wide. "How on earth can anyone write that much?"

"See, right there, that is my predicament," Castiel chuckled, giving Dean a lopsided grin.

"Yeah, I can imagine, rather you than me." Dean shook his head in horror, 800 pages! That was sheer madness.

"So, food? I know this real nice place just off campus; somehow you strike me as the burger and fries kind of guy."

Dean perked up at that. "Hell yeah, I always have room for a burger."

#

Castiel had to park the car a few streets away as the diner was literally just off campus, which was buzzing with life and Dean was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people. He let the whole scene sink in as they walked amongst the crowds, this was Castiel's domain, and it felt like a whole different world to his.

He was clad in Cas' beige trenchcoat (he had replaced the old one with an almost identical one to everyone's great amusement) which Cas had insisted on him wearing as it was still drizzling with rain and he already looked like a 'wet dog'. Dean was sure his appearance was absolutely ridiculous in this thing but he was too comfortable to care. The coat almost felt like a safe cocoon, wrapped safely around him, and he knew it sounded stupid (and girly) even in his own head, but he really liked wearing something that belonged to the older man. On a few occasions students greeted Cas with a "Hello Mr Novak," and it sounded so weird in Dean's ears, he had trouble trying not to laugh.

Cas steered them across the big square area, down the road and through the door of what at first glance looked more like a coffee shop than a diner but the delicious smell of fried food left no room for doubt.

"Good afternoon, Mr Novak. Table for two?" A girl in her early twenties approached them, smiling brightly.

"Good afternoon, Janine, yes please." Cas nodded politely and followed Janine to a table in the corner, Dean close behind.

She handed them the menus and left them to decide.

"So, you come here often then?" Dean asked smiling.

"Guilty as charged." Cas held up his hands in surrender. "I admit to having a weakness for red meat, something I'm afraid Amelia doesn't share, so whenever I need a 'fix' I come here."

Dean chuckled at the thought of Cas 'addicted' to anything, let alone red meat, at the same time being very pleased that this was something they shared. He studied the menu before realising that Cas hadn't even bothered to open his and raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"Oh, I know what I want - I am a creature of habit, I'm afraid. But if you want my advice, the cheeseburger is exceptionally tasty here." Cas winked, feeling his stomach doing a little flip at the thought of just such a burger.

"That what you're having?"

"Most definitely."

"Well, make that two then." Dean smiled and Cas waved over their waitress to place their order.

"The usual for you, I take it," she was batting her eyelashes at Cas, and Dean could feel a weird coiling in his stomach. Did that woman have no decency; Cas was married as could be clearly seen from the ring on his finger.

"Yes, thank you Janine,"

"And, for your – "

"Oh, this is Dean, and he is a very good friend of mine." Castiel stated like it should be a commonly known fact.

"Hello Dean, what can I get for you?" She gave him a sugary 'oh, aren't you adorable' grin and Dean put on the best cocky smile he could muster.

"The same as _Cas_," he said, feeling smug at the way her eyes temporarily zoned in on him at the pet name he had for his 'friend'. But she caught her composure fast enough and went back to making ogly eyes at Cas.

"You want any drinks to go with that."

"Americano with milk on the side please, and - Dean?"

"Oh, erm, strawberry milkshake if that's ok." Dean asked looking at Cas.

"Of course it is, that is all thank you Janine."

"I will be back with your drinks in a minute," she smiled before leaving the two of them to it.

Dean was staring at his hands that were playing with the hem of his shirt. Castiel could see that something was on his mind.

"Dean?" he asked. Dean brought his face up to meet his gaze, a small and way too timid smile for him on his face.

"So, we're- friends?" he had been rather surprised by the use of that word by Cas and needed a moment to mill that over in his head.

"Yes, we are friends. Unless – you think it rather un-cool to have an old 'dude' like me for a friend." Cas' face lit up, clearly teasing, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

"You're not OLD," Dean protested, smiling back at Cas.

"Well, thank you, Dean. So, I take that as a 'yes' then." Dean nodded his head enthusiastically. He didn't really have many friends; it had always been easier and safer to keep to himself. He and Sammy, that was normally his world. Now suddenly he had Cas, and Amelia of course, he quickly added as an afterthought.

"And friends normally do tell each other what's going on, what's on their mind," Cas said leaning back in his seat a bit and feeling Dean's gaze on him, and could see his body going rigid even as Cas spoke.

"Like right now, I can tell you that I am not looking forward to being reunited with my siblings at Easter. I am still licking my wounds from Christmas." Quite literally, Cas thought. It had taken him weeks to get Gabriel and his silly accusations out of his head. He had noticed how he had started to keep his distance not just from Dean but from Sammy as well, and he had hated his brother for it. It really only took a few words to poison the mind. Only with time and reasoning did he get to the point of seeing Gabriel's accusations exactly for what they were, just another way of unsettling him, of reminding him that he 'knew' and would not let him forget. Also he realised that he really did care for these boys, almost like the little brothers he always wanted and never had. And screw his brother but that could never be a bad thing.

"That I can understand, they seem rather full on!" Dean had other words in mind for Cas' brothers but didn't want to be insulting.

"And you only met two of them." Cas' fingers carded through his hair, making it stand up in his telltale _just out of bed _style, made worse by the hair having been slightly damp from the rain.

"Tell me about them. I mean – if you want to?" Dean asked nervously.

Cas nodded in agreement. "Well, you met Balthazar, the oldest and Gabriel, second in line, already. Then there's…"

Castiel was interrupted by Janine returning with their drinks and placing them in front of them, informing them with her usual chirpy voice that the food wouldn't be too long.

Dean took a big slurp of his milkshake through the straw while watching Castiel methodically placing just the right amount of milk onto his americano, followed by a heaped teaspoon of sugar, giving it a stir with the spoon before taking a big sip. His eyes were closing as he savoured the taste, and Dean just stared. Cas really did like his coffee judging by the way his whole face suddenly looked contented and happy and Dean really liked that look on the man's face.

"You really like this stuff," he chuckled as Castiel opened his eyes again, a small moan escaping him.

"Yes."

"So, brothers," Dean changed the subject when he realised he was still staring at Cas and could feel his stupid face heat up for no apparent reason.

"Ah yes, Raphael, he's the third oldest, or third youngest, whichever way you look at it, I guess. He is adopted. Our parents went on an extended trip to Africa and while there, adopted one of the homeless children they were looking after. Maybe that is why he and his wife have gone back over there, to give something back."

Dean nodded his head, glued to Cas' lips and willing him to go on. He really wanted to know about Castiel's family and what made them tick. Especially why they treated Cas the way they did.

"Then there's the only girl, Anna, she actually is ok at times, in small doses that it. And finally… there's little old me, the afterthought. I guess, they didn't want to call me an accident." Castiel suddenly sounded rather bitter, but having been born when both their parents had been well into their forties and with already four kids, he could never quite shake that underlying feeling that he all but upset the perfect family symmetry. Being six years younger than his next sibling also didn't help that thought. Although of course, his parents to their dying days would deny that and call him 'God's gift late in life'.

"Castiel," Dean exclaimed and, in a very untypical gesture for him, grabbed the other man's hand and squeezing it firmly. He was shocked by the way the older man looked so hurt for a moment, like he really believed himself to be an accident and it made Dean want to hunt his family down and give them a piece of his mind. "Don't ever say that about yourself again. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me – and Sammy." Dean was shocked at his own words but wouldn't want to take them back, because it was the truth.

"Sorry, Dean, I should not make you bear my burdens," Castiel quickly said, audibly shutting his mouth. He had definitely shared too much. It was just, he forgot for a second that this was a thirteen year old teenager he was talking to and not someone closer to his own age. Just his whole personality and demeanour at times made him appear older than he actually was.

"No, Cas, as you said that's what friends are for, right."

"Right, beaten with my own weapons," Castiel laughed and conceded defeat. He gave Dean's hand a squeeze in thanks (suddenly realising that he was still holding on to it) before retracting his own hand.

"So, that makes it your turn now. What happened earlier? My guess is it has something to do with Sammy?"

The 'I don't want to talk about it' was already forming on his lips but he instantly felt bad for closing up again. Instead he stared at his milkshake and gave a nod.

He felt Cas' gaze on him but other than that the man didn't do or say anything which gave him time to gather his courage.

"Is just- Sammy has this trip coming up and we haven't got the money to go and then he got really upset and him and dad fought, and he said some really hurtful things, which…" Dean gulped, briefly looking at Cas before looking away again. "It made me think of mom and, god Cas, I miss her so much sometimes." Dean sighed, taking a deep breath to get himself under control again.

Castiel gave him a minute to compose himself, but also because he really needed the time to decide what to say or do. Dean was visibly fighting with his emotions and Castiel didn't want to put him over the edge, or make him angry and for him to clam up again.

"'S stupid I know; she died like three years ago - no, four by now, and..."

"Dean, it is ok. Don't put that pressure on yourself. Grief has no timetable and of course you would still miss her, probably still will for some time to come. She was your mom after all."

Dean took the paper napkin and blew his nose but otherwise managed to keep any tears at bay. It was like a big weight just suddenly lifted off his shoulders. Someone telling him it was ok to still feel like this even after all this time felt so good. Also, it was nice to be able to talk about her at all. Certainly not something he could do with his dad, and as for Sammy, he just tried to make sure his brother remembered her, the nice things about her, not how big a hole she had left in their lives.

"Thank you," Dean hated how small and raspy his voice sounded but he gave Dean a small smile anyway.

"That is what friends are for, right." Cas echoed the boy's earlier words.

"Guess so," Dean smiled to himself. It felt nice being here like that with Cas. He was treating him like an equal not just like some stupid kid or a waste of space like most other people.

"And Dean, I know you will say 'no' but think of it from Sammy's perspective. I would, would you allow for me to pay for his trip, please."

"What? No – I mean, Cas,"

"Dean I know, you don't like charity and if you want you can 'work' it off again," Cas was using those air quotes again, that just made him look even more nerdy than usual and Dean could feel his resolve melt. It would be for Sammy.

"Ok," he said before he could change his mind. "Ok, yes," grinning at Cas. "Sammy will be so thrilled." He had no idea what he would tell his dad yet, maybe he would have to fake the signature on the slip, again. Something he had gotten rather good at over time, but now he was even more determined that Sammy would go.

"Ah there is our food, finally. God, I am rather famished now." Castiel unfolded his napkin and to Dean's great amusement spread it over his lap, giving Dean one of his quizzical looks at what had him so amused all of a sudden. Dean just shook his head and picked up the burger (without placing the napkin anywhere, it already had had previous use anyway) and taking a big bite.

"Gawd, Cas, dads gowd," he managed to get out around a mouthful of food. Castiel just smiled knowingly before picking up his burger and taking a rather modest bite in comparison.

They ate in silence for a minute, Castiel growing more and more amused by the way Dean just seemed to hover up his food.

"Dean, don't forget to breathe," he teased.

"Dude, sorry, but living with Sammy, you either eat fast or you don't eat." Dean gave as way of explanation before tucking back in.

Cas just shook his head laughing before focussing his attention back on his own food.

#

It was just before 6 when Castiel pulled onto the drive of his house. As he got out his eyes fell on Dean's house opposite, or more precisely on to the big pick up truck that was parked in front of the Impala.

"You expect visitors?" He asked before realising that that was actually none of his business. Dean's eyes followed where Cas was looking.

"Bobby!" he shouted excitedly, all his trouble with his dad forgotten. "That's Bobby's truck. Come on Cas, you have to meet him." And he grabbed Cas by the hand and dragged him across the street and Cas, to his own surprise, let himself be dragged, shaking his head.

Dean opened the front door, big grin spreading over his face at the sight of the gruff old man, Sammy plastered to his leg like his life depended on it.

"Bobby!"

"Hey son," Bobby smiled, striding across the room and engulfing Dean in a big strong hug. "So good to see you kid."

"What are you doing here?"

"Was in the neighbourhood. Had to take care of some business and thought I'd drop in to say hello. In fact, I'm going to spend the night, as I'm getting too old for these one day return trips." He took of his tattered base ball cap, giving his thinning hair a good brush with his hands before putting it back on.

Castiel stood awkwardly in the doorway, feeling surplus to requirement at this little family reunion. Before long though, Bobby's eyes met with the figure shuffling awkwardly near the door. "And who's that?" he said gruffly, eyeing Castiel suspiciously.

"That is Cas- tiel," Dean said smiling and urging Cas to come into the room. At the name Bobby's face relaxed. "Ah, yes, I heard a lot about you, and your wife, from a certain young man," he smiled, pointing at the dead weight of Sammy still attached to his hip, and reached out his hand and shaking it firmly.

"Castiel and Amelia are awesome," Sammy confirmed, grinning.

They were interrupted by John walking in, giving Castiel a 'what are you doing in my house' look but otherwise ignoring him. "I'm off to work, Dean make sure your brother is in bed by 9 and, Bobby, the couch is all yours."

"John, a word," Bobby followed their dad out of the house.

"What?"

"Ok, you know we're friends but I'm not gonna beat about the bush. You know this road you're on is leading nowhere good, and …" John's about to open his mouth in protest but was cut off by Bobby.

"Don't try to fool me. I've known you for how long? And you haven't been right since Mary died but this… this is not the solution; believe me I've been there. God, John, you're going to work _drunk_!"

John always had a decent amount of respect for Bobby, and that was the only reason he didn't hit him outright. "We're doing just fine," he huffed.

"You can keep fooling yourself if you want, but you deserve more than this. More importantly, your boys deserve better than having a drunk for a dad. So, I'm telling you this as your friend. You better get your shit together or I will make sure these kids get the care they need."

"Bobby," John gritted out in warning.

"Just make sure I won't have to and we're ok." Bobby said giving the man a pat on the back, before turning back into the house, leaving John standing before he could reply.

"My apologies, I didn't want to be rude but had to just sort something out - what is going on here?" Bobby enquired at the way Sammy was literally bouncing off the walls and saying 'Castiel is the best' over and over.

"I'm going on the trip, Castiel is going to pay for it."

Bobby gave first Dean and then Castiel a weighty 'explain' look, and Castiel was sure the man could be mightily intimidating when he wanted to be and made a mental note not to get on his bad side, ever.

Dean stepped up next to Cas, as though he could read his thoughts and quickly gave Bobby the basic outline of what had happened earlier today (leaving out some of the more incriminating details with regards to his father) and ending with that Castiel had offered to pay for the trip.

Bobby again, gave Castiel the once over, as though he was trying to get a reading on him.

"So, let me get this right. You are basically planning to go behind your dad's back and sending Sammy on the trip with money your 'friend' will provide for you."

Dean wanted to flinch away but held Bobby's gaze. "Yes, because Sammy deserves to go," he said defiantly.

"Boy, you know going behind your old man's back will only get you into more trouble."

Both Dean and Sammy's face fell and Dean opened his mouth to protest but Bobby just gave him a quick wave with his hand.

"BUT," he continued, "Let me have a word with him, I'm sure I can change his mind. And how about I and Castiel split the money so I won't exactly be lying when I tell your old man that I will be paying for the trip."

"Bobby you're awesome," Sammy hurled himself at his Uncle and Dean couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"That ok with you?" Bobby turned to address Castiel.

"Yes, of course - and I have to apologise, I hadn't even considered the fact that Sammy would need his dad's agreement before going on a trip when I offered to pay. In my defence I can only say that I am not really used to dealing with children and schools and all that entails." Castiel felt really stupid for almost having made Dean's whole situation at home a whole lot worse, as unintentional as that would have been.

Bobby gave him an understanding nod. "So that's sorted, who wants to order pizza for tonight?" Both Dean and Sammy gave him an enthusiastic 'yes' in reply.

"Cas? You want to stay for pizza?" Dean asked, mentally crossing his fingers that he would say yes.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I'm afraid I will have to go home and check up on my wife." Cas said with a smile. He actually felt a bit bad for being home so late. With both him and Amelia working and studying, time together sometimes was hard to come by and Castiel knew that today was Amelia's day off. He better go and cook something nice for her or otherwise prove that he hadn't turned into some deadbeat husband.

Dean couldn't help but feel a bit dejected by Cas' leaving but he had Sammy and Bobby and this day that had started out so badly had done a 180 and would end on a good note, and he was grateful for it.

"Ok Cas, thanks again for – you know the burger and _stuff_." Dean had wanted to say 'being my friend' but there was only so much he would admit out loud in front of his brother and Bobby.

But Cas seemed to get it anyway if the way he smiled at him as he waved goodbye was anything to go by.

"Walk you to the door. You two, choose your pizzas from the menu," Bobby instructed before following Castiel and stopping him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I just wanted to say thank you to your and your wife for looking out for these boys," the old man said once the brothers were out of earshot.

"Is nothing, Mr-"

"Call me Bobby, please" Castiel nodded, giving the man a small smile.

"We like having them around, they are good kids."

"And don't I know it. It's just their life hasn't been easy since their mom died and as much as I would like to I cannot be around all the time to make sure they're ok. Sammy seemed to be particularly taken with your wife, and the boys could do with a woman's touch in their lives. So it's good to know there are people looking out for them."

Castiel could only nod in agreement, as this new truth hit him. He had always suspected things not to be easy for the boys but to have someone confirm this and to thank him for making their life better filled him with equal amounts of dread and warmth.

"You should really come over and meet Amelia," he blurted out before he could think about it, but it felt like this man, their adopted uncle had given them an unspoken task to do and it felt only right for him to meet his wife.

"I will have to be on my way tomorrow but if it's not too much bother I might come knocking on the door just to introduce myself."

"That would be agreeable," Castiel said holding out his hand. Bobby took it, giving it a firm shake before going back inside to attend to the Winchester boys.

Castiel walked the short distance over to his house, still a bit overwhelmed but smiling. It felt good to be able to be a positive influence in someone else's life, and while he felt bad for having neglected his wife today, he was also sure he would do it again in a heartbeat. Dean had needed someone, the boy was carrying too much on his small shoulders. How much that really was, he had become only too aware after the little chat with Bobby. Also, despite their clear age difference, he had meant it when he said he considered Dean a friend and he was determined to be there for him and his brother. He was sure Amelia would understand.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Many thanks for everyone who's reading and leaving feedback on this story.

I need to use this space for a personal reply to **Tabby**, I wish you had left me an address to reply privately, but I just need to let you know how much your review means to me. It really is such a spur on to hear how much you enjoy this and that you are upset on my behalf on the seemingly small number of reviews. There is a lot more I want to say to you but this is not the place. But thanks again!

I have to say that I cherish every single review, be there one of a hundred. I know I am not a fandom famous author and that generally my stories are not drawing in the masses. But I love this baby of mine and as long as there is one other person reading this, I will carry on. But maybe I could ask you lovely readers that if you enjoy this story, to go out there and spread the word, rec it to other Destiel fans, or to just make my day and leave me a short review.

Enough of my ramblings, I hope you like the next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 5

"He's coming, everyone to your positions," Sammy animatedly waved his hands around, indicating where he wanted everyone to be.

"The candles!" he yelled.

"Already at it," Amelia replied, lighting the candles that the younger Winchester had arranged in a nice geometrical pattern on the cake. He had been so excited about this moment all day, no - all week, really. He could hardly contain himself, to the point where Dean this morning had abandoned him to some yard work, while he had gone off to see if Castiel needed help with anything. As he had put it, he didn't want to catch the 'crazy'. And if the younger brother hadn't been so excited about today, he might have even got grumpy at the fact that Dean (as had happened more and more lately) chose to spend time with the older man over spending time with him. But he didn't want to appear selfish as Dean didn't really have any friends to call his own and mostly he was happy for Dean, as he generally seemed more relaxed these days. He just didn't understand why that required him to be excluded.

Sometimes he was worried that Dean got to that age where he didn't want anything to do with his kid brother anymore, something that according to books and shows on TV was bound to happen. Sammy had no idea what he would do without Dean so he pushed those thoughts away and tried to be the most awesome little brother he possibly could be. And today he would make sure, with the help of Castiel and Amelia, that Dean would finally get a birthday worth remembering.

All throughout the day he had been very upset that his older brother didn't as much as question that apparently everybody had forgotten about his birthday. He got it that they couldn't expect their dad to get them as much as a cake, but Dean really should know him better than to forget, and if it had been the other way around, Sammy would have raised hell about the fact that it was his birthday hours ago; he was one hundred percent positive on that one.

He had casually mentioned to Amelia and Castiel that it would be Dean's fourteenth birthday this weekend and after confiding in them about the general lack of celebration in their household and that he wanted to do something special for his brother, both had been more than eager to arrange this little surprise with him.

And now, here they were, standing around the kitchen table, on which a big, massive chocolate cake (homemade by Sammy with only minimal supervision, as he would proudly tell anyone who wanted to listen) was placed, fourteen glowing candles in its middle, and actual presents! Sam was bouncing on the heels of his feet, as he shouted for Dean to come into the kitchen for a second, getting an exasperated "in a minute" coming from the living room in response.

Amelia and Castiel smiled fondly at the boy, happy that something so simple could put such a smile on someone's face. They had been saddened by the knowledge that this was not something the Winchester household normally did (well at least not since their mom died), and not for the first time Castiel's distinct dislike for their father went up a notch, despite still not having exchanged more than a few words with the man.

The short conversation he had with Bobby Singer a while ago was still prominent in his thoughts. The idea of the boys not getting the due care they needed (and more than deserved) did not sit well with him. He even had (and Dean would most definitely kill him if he ever found out) anonymously enquired about whether there was anything that could be done if someone had a feeling that there were kids who were being neglected. But after a long conversation and inquisition by the 'friendly' voice on the other end, about whether he feared for the kids safety (no) or whether he had evidence that they were being abused (also no, although Castiel would argue it didn't necessarily need bruises and scars for it to qualify as abuse, and he knew that from experience), there was apparently nothing much that could be done as that would be interfering in a family's private affairs. It seemed that being a 'douche and enjoying too much to drink' in and off itself was not enough to raise suspicions, or, as the lady on the phone had put it, if that were the case, they would probably have to put half the children's population into care.

Castiel had felt a righteous indignation of 'thanks for nothing' growing inside of him in the wake of that conversation, and already could feel his passive aggressive stubborn streak take over and hence his renewed resolve to live up to Bobby's promise and to look out for the two brothers. If no one else would, then he was more than willing to take on that job description. It wasn't like it was a chore anyway. Plus he knew that Amelia was more than smitten with the boys, so it didn't even seem weird to somehow find himself with a kind of 'insta'-family all of a sudden, despite never having pegged himself as a family man, let alone a father- (no, that made him feel old and also brought back too many memories of his own dad), better, big brother- figure for two kids.

Part of that job was to put a smile on the boys' faces, and Castiel knew the second Dean walked in through that door and the way he smiled, almost bashfully for someone normally so brazen, that he would never forget this moment in his life. Sammy was belting out 'happy birthday' from the top of his lungs, with Amelia and Castiel quick to join in, before the eager boy literally threw the presents and himself at his brother. Castiel felt his chest burst with glee at the scene in front of him. At the same time he couldn't help the feeling that quite possibly, he was becoming a bit too protective of these boys. He knew that not everyone grew up with caring parents, and despite their rather hard line disciplinarian stand, his parents cared on some level. And maybe their father did too. Well, at least the man provided a roof over his kids' heads, which was not something that could be said for everyone. Castiel would only have to venture a few streets down the road to see the reality of that statement.

"Little bro, where did you get these?" Dean was clearly taken by Sam's collection of AC/DC records, not CDs!, as he kept repeating excitedly. Sammy, of course, knew that Dean was the old fashioned type when it came to music as he always lectured him on how these old records had life and soul in them, something you just lose with all the modern crap (Dean's words).

Sammy had gone through Dean's records before, with the help of Castiel, googling which albums Dean still missed. Then the man had helped him track them down on the internet, making up the difference in money as Sam had only a little bit of money saved up, from back when his dad still had a job and actually gave them some spending money.

Sam beamed proudly. "I had a little help," he said, nodding at Castiel.

"Aw man, thanks." Dean smiled, reverently holding the records in his hand.

"Also," Amelia chimed in, "a little something from me and Cassie." She held out a big, wrapped square box, and if anything, Dean's eyes got even bigger.

Dean couldn't believe this. These people really didn't owe him, or Sammy, anything and yet, they went to all this length to make his birthday a special day. He could feel the emotions welling up inside him (as they had a weird tendency to do lately), and had to swallow and clench his jaw a few times to get himself under control. No way was he gonna cry in front of all these people.

"You really didn't need to," he eventually said, still staring at the present.

"No, but we wanted to." Castiel stated dryly, nodding his head in the direction of the present.

"Dean, come on, open it!" Sam whined, with all the enthusiasm of a ten year old, and probably about two seconds away from opening it himself.

It was a model kit for a classic Chevrolet, and not one of those cheap ones you might find in just any shop. This had real metal parts, rubber tyres and would look absolutely beautiful when assembled.

Amelia and Castiel held their breath. They really had struggled to find something they thought Dean might enjoy. He was at that awkward teenage age where apparently not much excites, but Castiel remembered how his face always lit up when he talked about his dad's car and how much he enjoyed working on it when given the chance.

"Man, that looks expensive," was the first thing that came out of Dean's mouth.

"Hope you like it." Castiel simply replied, ignoring the comment.

"Yeah, I do, I really do. Thanks guys," he said, giving Cas an awkward one-armed hug before being pulled in for a proper embrace by Amelia.

"Now who wants some cake?" Amelia asked and Sam clearly was just waiting for this. Dean chuckled, if Sammy was good at one thing, it was eating, no doubt he would be on a total sugar high later and a pain in the ass to deal with, especially while trying to keep him from making too much noise when they went back home, but for one day Dean didn't think he cared. Their old man would just have to suck it up, and deal with the hangover he no doubt would be nursing.

#

Dean had an awesome day; there was no other way of putting it. Cas and Amelia had surprised Sammy and him with an impromptu barbecue, honouring his love of red meat, and making most of the warm late July day just hanging out in their back yard. They had asked whether Dean wanted to invite his dad along, but Dean knew his dad was out, probably already drunk at some bar, which of course he didn't tell them about, instead making up some excuse. Since he had lost his last job, he was going through a particularly rough spot, but Dean was used to riding those out. Just give the old man as little reason to be upset as possible until he comes out the other end generally worked best.

But really, he hadn't wanted to think too much about his dad, it would have just ruined his mood. And he had had too much of a good time watching that excited bright smile on Sammy's face, as Cas had shown him how to flip the burgers and even let him have a go himself. Of course, Dean had to eat the slightly charred 'creation' Sammy had produced and handed to him with the biggest grin possible, but to him it had been the best damn thing ever.

And now he was sat in the kitchen, Sammy long asleep, the excitement of the day finally having caught up with his little brother, and the half assembled model kit in his hands. The picture on the box really wasn't doing this kit justice. The pieces were exquisitely formed and painted and he needed real little bolts and screws to put this car together. He had spent the first hour just separating all the different kinds of screws and familiarising himself with the blueprint. When finished, it would be about 20 inches long and Dean already knew just the spot to put it in his and Sammy's room.

The slamming of the front door made him jump. Shit, he had totally forgotten the time. A quick glance to the wall clock confirmed that it was past eleven, and their dad was pretty firm on Dean being in bed by ten, even on the weekends. Not that he was around too often to check whether Dean adhered to this, but it was the randomness in his dad's check up that had Dean on his toes, there was no time for slacking off. Still he hoped that maybe now that he had turned fourteen, and because it was his birthday after all, his dad might be a bit more lenient.

"Dean?" his dad's slurred voice drifted across from the hallway. He hadn't even made it to the kitchen, and Dean could hear he was not too thrilled.

"What time you call this?" he stepped into the room, Dean already having an apology on his lips, when his dad's eyes fell to the model kit in front of him on the table. He stared at it intently for a minute. Dean tried to remain calm, trying to decipher the look on his old man's face.

"What's that?" John asked, picking up the box and trying to focus on the reading on it, something Dean could see caused him some trouble.

"A model car, sir." Dean replied simply and without any emotion.

"And where did this 'model car' come from?" his dad hissed, at least he was aware that Sammy was asleep and probably didn't want to wake him.

"It was-" Dean stalled. He did not want to tell his dad where the car had come from. Their time with Amelia and Cast was special, something only for him and Sammy, and he did not want his dad knowing about it, interfering and probably making the Novaks realise in the process that they were hopeless cases and just abandon them.

"Son?" His dad asked a bit more forcefully.

"A present, ok?" Dean snapped, immediately regretting his tone of voice, when his dad's eyes lit up in anger.

"A present? You tryin' to tell me someone spent all this money, because, let's face it this ain't some cheap crap. Dean, did you steal this?" his dad's voice was rising in intensity.

"What? No!" Dean protested.

"Then tell me where you got it!" his dad demanded.

"No." Oh god, Dean knew the second he said it, he would be in trouble, if his dad disliked one thing it was defiance.

"I thought I brought you up better than to be a common thief!" his dad yelled, reaching out with his hand and swiping the model straight off the table and hurling it into the wall.

"No!" Dean gasped, scrambling after it, but the damage had already been done. Whatever he had done so far, had been pretty much trashed, especially the bits he had to glue on, as they had yet to dry. Also the frame had been bent, and he had no idea if it was fixable.

"If I ever, and I mean EVER, find out you're stealin', I will have to revisit my 'no corporal' punishment rule. We Winchesters might be poor but at least we're honest!" And with that his dad stumbled out of the kitchen and towards his room.

Dean sat on the floor, staring at the ruined model, feeling the tears threatening to fall, but he had decided a long time ago that he would not cry over anything to do with his dad anymore. But he needed to get out; he could not stand to be in the same house right now. He grabbed a bag and picking up all the pieces, put them together with what was still on the table inside, not really knowing why he took it with him as he left the house.

He just wanted to go for a walk, to clear his head, to work off some of that anger he could feel knotting in his stomach. He wasn't even thinking about how he would leave Sammy behind on his own, his mind too clouded. Somehow he came to a stop in front of the Novaks' house and he saw the light on in the kitchen. He had no idea why, but with a few quick and determined strides he made his way to their front door and knocked on the door. He just needed to see a friendly face.

Castiel was just about to go to bed, only quickly wanting to grab a glass of water, when he heard a knock on the door. He was half tempted to just ignore it as he was not expecting anyone. Amelia had left a few hours ago to visit her family for the weekend and he was sure that opening the door at this time of night would not be the best advised idea. Instead he opted for the safer "Who's there," not really expecting Dean to answer with an altogether too choked up sounding voice. He flung the door open immediately and took in the slouched form of the boy.

"Did anything happen?" He asked concerned, his mind providing that there must be something wrong with Sammy, if Dean turned up at his door this time of night.

Dean did a mix between a nod and a shake, and swallowed hard, it was evident to Castiel that he was trying hard not to lose it.

"Dean, is Sam ok?"

That got Dean's attention. "Yes, he's fine. It's just … my dad-," his voice broke off.

"You want to come in for a minute. Tell me what happened?" Castiel offered, not sure what the right thing to do here was. Dean clearly was distressed but it was almost 11.30 and really, he should be at home and in bed. God, he wished Amelia was here, she was so much better with all this emotional stuff.

Dean nodded his head and walked past Cas, straight to the living room, sitting down on the couch and burying his head in his hands. Cas closed the door and joined Dean , eyeing the boy without trying to stare and still trying to figure out what the right thing to say here was.

"You wanna talk about it?" he eventually settled for. Dean violently shook his head, but Cas could see how he was starting to shake and could hear the laboured intakes of his breath. He knew even with his limited social awareness that Dean was most likely about 2 seconds away from crying.

"I'm really not good at all this comforting stuff," the man chuckled, trying in vain to lift the mood, "And, I don't know if you're too old for a hug, being all teenagey and stuff but…" Castiel didn't get to finish the sentence as he suddenly had a sobbing Dean attached to his side, head pressed against his chest, and shuddering with the release of emotions he had probably held in for way too long.

"He broke it," he rasped out between sobs. "He … he said I was a thief and then he broke it and, it was mine, not his, not Sammy's, it was just mine, and now it's broken."

Castiel held him tighter, rubbing soothing circles to his back. "Broke what?" he asked gently.

"Your present. I- I started building it and, he got angry and he fucking broke it."

Castiel chose to ignore the curse word coming out of Dean's mouth. To be honest, he himself would right about now like to use a few choice words to describe what he thought of Dean's dad. But he knew that this, while possibly making him feel better, would not really help the situation or Dean right now.

"It's going to be ok." was the platitude he came out with instead, holding on to Dean, waiting patiently until he would be all cried out. He hadn't even noticed that his hand had started to card through the boy's hair, as he continued to whisper reassurances. God, he was mad, he had no idea when the last time was that he felt so worked up over something. He pulled Dean closer and the boy just clung to him, almost desperately so. If it was up to Castiel, he would just scoop this amazing young man up and whisk him away from all this trouble, keep him safe from this world and all its troubles. He just wanted to protect the boy but felt immensely ill equipped to do so.

It took a good few minutes, but eventually the incessant sobbing turned into the occasional gasp. Castiel had given up on the idea of saving his shirt. The spot Dean was crying into, by now was soaked and clinging to Castiel's skin.

Dean had not wanted to lose it. He had tried so hard not to cry, not over his dad, not show himself as weak. But then Cas' warm and soothing voice had cut straight to his heart, making him feel safe in a weird sort of way, in a way he hadn't felt in a long time and he couldn't stop the tears. And once he let go, all his frustration and anger came tumbling out. He pressed himself closer to the blue eyed man, feeling his strong arms engulf him. It had been so long since someone really had hugged him, or to be fair, since he would allow anyone to hug him, well apart from Sammy, but that was generally because Sammy needed comforting not the other way round.

So now that he had crossed this line, he let himself enjoy every second of it, crying like he never had before, feeling the big, strong hands rubbing circles on his back and enjoying the warm presence of another body. And then Cas' fingers started to brush through his hair, and Dean could feel himself shiver, leaning into the touch like he was starving for it. When Dean eventually started to calm down, his brain was demanding of him to let go, to get himself out of the embrace. But stubbornly he refused, instead pressing himself up even more against Castiel, moving his head so it was buried in the crook of his neck now. He felt the stubble against his skin and couldn't help but brush his cheek against it, which brought his nose right up to the spot behind the older man's ear and he took in the scent that was all Castiel, a fragrance he was only too eager to smell again. So he brushed his nose up against the spot again.

Castiel could finally feel the boy in his arms calm down, and he let out a relieved sigh. He could feel Dean nuzzling against his neck and if his mind hadn't been preoccupied with processing how this day could have turned out so bad for Dean, he might have even had the presence of mind to maybe put a dignified stop to the embrace before Dean would feel embarrassed by the sudden display of affection.

"Better now?" Cas asked, voice coming out a lot huskier than he had intended to, making him clear his throat. He could feel the movement of Dean's head and only assume that it was a nod.

"Good," he smiled into Dean's hair and placed the smallest of pecks on the boy's forehead before pulling him in again.

Dean's head was swimming, he had no idea what was wrong with him all of a sudden. The dread of what happened with his father had been replaced by a nervous coiling in his stomach, a heat working its way all the way up his spine, making him feel hot and cold at the same time. He craved some more of Cas' body heat and pressed himself even closer, just short of throwing a leg over the man's lap and closing his eyes. Then out of the blue, Dean froze, holding his breath. Shit, there was definitely something going on in his pants, his suddenly panicked mind provided. '_Oh my god_, please don't let Castiel notice', was racing through his head, as he could feel himself flush red in embarrassment. Alarmed, Dean bolted out of the man's embrace, with a blurted out "I need the loo."

Castiel just looked on as Dean high-tailed it out of the living room, eyebrow raised. He shook his head, a small smile gracing his features. Probably Dean had just realised the 'girlish' nature of his behaviour and needed a moment. If Cas knew something about the boy it was that he liked to uphold his 'tough-boy' image, but who could blame him on a day like today to let it slip. He hoped Dean wouldn't be too hard on himself. He was just human after all and Cas, for once, was glad he came to share his frustration with him rather than swallow it all down, like he probably tended to do.

Dean raced to the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. He stared at himself in the mirror, down at his crotch and up in the mirror again, asking his stupidly flushed reflection "What the hell?" Yeah, he had had boners before, ever since he was twelve in fact, but they were generally dream- or well, lately, porn-induced (a nice luxury thanks to their dad not really giving a shit about internet security), but getting aroused while sat on the couch with a guy, with Castiel, his friend? What the hell was wrong with him?

He splayed cold water on his face, willing the hard-on to go away, as there was no way he would do what would need doing to take care of it in Amelia and Castiel's bathroom. He prayed that Castiel hadn't noticed anything. Dean was sure he would die of intense shame otherwise. He didn't want Castiel to think of him as weird, and throw him out or worse, lose him as a friend. As he panicked, he realised how much Cas' friendship meant to him and shit, he was about to mess that up. Cas put up with enough of their crap, and Sammy would never forgive him if he pissed Castiel or Amelia off. He knew how much Sammy had come to like them and it would break his heart. Dean splashed some more water on his face. At least his near panic attack had the desired side effect of willing his arousal away.

He eventually managed to get himself under control, not looking like he was five kinds of crazy, and walked back into the living room, feeling sheepish and murmuring "Sorry". Castiel just smiled one of his genuine smiles, all teeth and gums. "No worries, it sounds like it's been a rough evening for you."

Dean nodded in silent agreement, and sighed, relieved. Things seemed to be ok between them. "Sorry, I didn't want to dump this all on you like that, just, I don't know…"

"Dean, I said it's alright, really. Remember, friends!" and he pointed his finger between the two, and Dean couldn't help but smile. Cas patted the space next to him and Dean sat himself down, making sure to leave an acceptable distance between them.

"Now, do you feel ok to head home or would you like a drink first?" Cas added, and when Dean nodded his head, he got up and padded to the kitchen, motioning for Dean to follow him. He toyed with the idea of preparing some coffee for himself. He was wide awake now, and might as well use the night to work on his thesis.

Dean followed him into the kitchen, sitting down at the table. "A coffee would be great actually."

Castiel turned around, giving Dean a questioning look. "Since when do you drink coffee?" he asked curiously, leaning leisurely against the counter, a look that suited him, Dean decided as he shrugged his shoulders in response. "Well, since a while. I guess, since I saw you drinking it, drowning it in like five spoons of sugar. Got me curious." He added, while simultaneously trying not to let his eyes rake over Castiel's body too obviously because that would just be awkward.

"So you're saying I corrupted you?" Castiel teased while pulling out a second mug, and putting some more coffee beans into the grinder.

Dean just snorted and rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, well, guess it was supposed to happen sooner or later." And now he had to look away. What the hell?

They both fell silent for a bit. Dean went back to watching Castiel grind the beans, then put them in the cafetiere before adding the hot water. Of course, Cas would be the fussy kind of coffee lover. Dean bet he'd rather drink water than settle for the instant version most people so readily consumed these days. He had of course watched him prepare coffee before, but now, observing him, the way he almost reverently added it all together to create the perfect mix, he couldn't help but smile. He wondered whether he would develop little habits like that as he got older. For once, this would be one he could actually see himself doing, as the delicious smell of the brew was slowly invading his nostrils.

"Milk?" Castiel asked and Dean nodded his head, smirking when Castiel pulled out a small sauce pan, pouring in the milk and placing it on the stove.

"The microwave broken?" Dean enquired flippantly.

"No," Castiel replied dryly, not feeling the need to explain himself further. He poured the warmed the milk into a small, fancy looking mug and placed it on the table along with the mugs, a bowl of sugar and the cafetiere, then sat down opposite Dean.

"So, how bad is it?" he asked while he filled up both mugs before pushing one over to Dean, motioning for him to add milk and sugar to his liking.

"Is what?" Dean asked confused.

"The model," Castiel clarified, and then took a big long gulp of the coffee, sighing contentedly. "That's good stuff," he smiled.

Dean hummed in agreement, before he remembered that he actually had brought the car along. "Hold on," he said, dashing out towards the living room and returning a moment later with the plastic bag in hand.

"You brought it?" Castiel asked surprised.

"Yeah, don't really know why, knee jerk reaction I suppose." He emptied the contents carefully out on the kitchen table, along with the blueprints. Castiel picked up the frame, eyeing it from all directions, before mumbling to himself.

"It's bad, isn't it," Dean said, more a statement than a question.

"Well, you're generally the expert on cars, so you tell me." He turned the model in his hand as Dean leaned in looking it over properly for the first time.

"Looks like the frame is misshapen and some of the paint has chipped, also this screw over here has broken off," Dean said, Castiel nodding his head in agreement, giving the kit his own once over.

"I think it's fixable" he concluded.

"It is?" Dean's voice broke in excitement.

"Yeah, I'm sure we can pull the frame back into shape and the rest is just cosmetic work and then you should be able to finish it according to the instructions."

"Can we do it now?" Dean blurted out, almost jumping off the chair in excitement and Castiel was just happy to see him smile again.

"Dean, the time," he said, which even in his eyes he knew only to be a half hearted attempt at avoiding the inevitable.

"Nah, my dad's out cold, and… but of course if you don't, I mean you probably want to go to bed." Dean said, grabbing his coffee and taking a big gulp. It was after midnight now, and he suddenly felt like he had overstayed his welcome.

"Well, we could just fix the frame now, and then you could finish it off tomorrow, if you want."

"That would be awesome." Dean smiled one of his big, wide smiles that Cas had gotten used to seeing quite a bit of lately, and it felt nice being the one putting it on his face. He really had a lot on his plate for a fourteen year old and he deserved to be a kid with no worries for just a while.

"Let me just grab my tool box," Castiel said, grabbing the garage keys from the counter and heading out, coming back a few minutes later with a big, black metal box in his hands and getting straight to work, pulling and bending the metal frame, with Dean helping where he could as they tried to avoid causing any more damage. Eventually he was satisfied, it looked almost as good as new and he let out a big sigh of relief.

"There, that should do it." Castiel leaned back in his chair, chugging down the last of the coffee and pulling a face when he realised it had gone cold.

Dean laughed and took the frame off Castiel and looked at it, eyes shining again.

"Man, I'm not gonna bawl again," he huffed, turning his emotions into laughter instead. "But really, thanks Cas."

They both fell into a comfortable silence. Dean really didn't want this night to end. It felt good, being here with Cas, just the two of them but despite his best efforts not to let it show, he was knackered and couldn't stop a big yawn escaping him.

"You probably should go and get some sleep," Castiel stated, checking the time. God when had it gotten so late? It was almost 2am and he hadn't even noticed. Cas mentally waved the time he had wanted to spend on his thesis goodbye. But looking at the boy sitting next to him at the table, tired but content, it had been worth it.

Dean had to agree, not matter how much he'd rather stayed here all night, but then he remembered Sammy, home alone with their dad. He'd had his proverbial five minutes of freedom, the model would be fine, and Sammy would need someone to make him breakfast in the morning. He carefully placed the car and all the pieces back in the bag, while Castiel washed up the mugs.

"I'll walk you to your house," Castiel said when they had reached the front door.

"No, dude. That's not necessary. I kept you up long enough," Dean protested but couldn't help feeling warmed by the thought that Cas cared enough for him to want to make sure he got home safe.

"Not asking," Castiel simply assured before pulling on some shoes and grabbing the door keys, motioning for Dean to follow him out of the house.

A minute (literally, Dean couldn't help but notice) later they arrived outside Dean's front door.

"Let me know if you need any more help with the car or…" Castiel stalled for a second, thinking about how to phrase this. "Or if you have trouble or, you know, need to talk."

Dean nodded, understanding perfectly well what Cas meant, and part of him was already beating himself up internally for having been such a fucking pussy, crying like that, but the other part still remembered how nice it felt to for once not having to pretend that everything is a-okay.

"Yeah, I will. Thanks Cas," he said, and he knew that the smile Cas gave him would follow him into his dreams but he was too tired to care. Before he could doubt himself he quickly leaned up, giving Cas a hug, allowing himself to enjoy the man's presence for just a few seconds longer before heading into his house and tiptoeing to his room, careful not to wake his little brother or god forbid, his dad.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Thanks so much for any new follows and reviews, they are all very much appreciated.

Hope you all enjoy the next chapter, there is a lot of Dean angst in it. And I might have to move the fic up to M soon, just so I don't have to worry about having to censor myself or the story ;) but for now it should be fine.

* * *

Chapter 6

Dean tossed restlessly in his bed, pressing his face into the pillow as he let out a muffled frustrated groan, mindful not to wake his brother. Ok, so he was officially having a small (or not so small) identity crisis. In fact, Dean was pretty sure he was going insane. It had been three weeks since that night when Cas had evoked a whole new string of emotions in him. Since then he just couldn't get the man out of his head. Not that he hadn't been in there a fair amount of time before, but now, he seemed to have taken up residency there permanently, his face, his eyes, the way his nose crinkled when he laughed, in high definition and 3D. It was all just Cas, Cas, Cas, to the point where Dean just wished he could rip him right out.

He knew he didn't exactly help the situation by basically devouring the man with his eyes whenever he was anywhere near him, like he was trying to assimilate Cas into his own body just by looking at him. He just couldn't help himself. Of course, Dean tried to be subtle because being found out staring at his friend _like that_ would be the death blow, Dean did not think he would be able to live down that kind of embarrassment. Also he was in no way convinced that Cas (or Amelia) wouldn't just throw him out of the house and never want anything to do with him or Sammy ever again.

But worst of all, in those long quiet nights, he recalled vividly the way it had felt when Cas had held him in his arms, the warm press of their bodies together, the way his body reacted to just the touch and smell of the older man. As embarrassing as it had been at the time, thinking back to it, it had felt amazing and part of Dean wanted to experience it again but he knew that he couldn't. There was not way he could just thrust himself onto his friend like that. Even disregarding the age gap, it would be utterly futile as Cas was clearly interested in women, hell, he was married to one, and Dean liked Amelia.

Then again, Dean had believed he was only interested in girls, and part of him still believed that to be true, hence the 'I'm going mad' crisis at 2 am in the morning, lying awake, replaying just those moments in his head over and over, regardless how odd it felt. He knew what being gay meant, guys liking other guys and all that stuff, not that this, or any sex related issues, were generally talked about at home. Just another one of those areas where his dad hadn't stepped up to the challenge lately. Dean had his sexual education mainly from the internet, and it had been up to now a strictly straight experience. Looking at naked women, boobs, the bigger the better, and the occasional trip to one of the free porn sites. He had never paid the men in those videos any attention, thinking it was only the women who got him excited but now, since the 'incident', he wasn't so sure anymore. Was he just doing what he thought was expected of him? Finding women attractive because people and society told him to? Or was that really all him? And if so, where did his reaction to Cas fit into all of it? And why, when he allowed himself to think about it unfiltered, did he find the idea of a naked Cas, all broad shoulders and straight angles, extremely titillating?

Dean groaned as he looked at his alarm, telling him it was 2.10 am. He needed to find a way to clear his head, and get some shut eye, especially with tomorrow being his first day of high school. One thing he most definitely didn't need so close to starting school was a sexual identity crisis, or any crisis at that! He buried his head in his pillow, trying hard to think of anything other than blue eyes, and just wished for sleep to find him.

#

Unfortunately the morning came soon enough and Dean begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed, rummaging through the clothes on the floor looking for something that was not too dirty and also wouldn't make him look like something wrapped in cling film. He desperately needed to get some new clothes after his latest growth spurt. He had to settle for a pair of blue jeans that 'only' marginally looked like they had been shrunk in the wash.

"Come on squirt, time to get up!" Dean pulled the blanket all the way off his little brother's still sleeping form, laughing when Sammy just grunted and burrowed his head in the pillow. Dean knew how he felt, being shattered himself from way too little sleep but someone had to make sure Sammy got to school on time.

Dean took to tickling his brother's feet, because he was mean and he knew Sammy hated it.

"Dean, leave me 'lone." Sammy protested, squirming in his bed, trying desperately to shrug his brother's hands off.

"First day of school, I thought you of all people can't wait to get back to learning, you little nerd." Dean teased, now ruffling the mop of hair. "Don't make me get some water!"

"Ugh, alright, gimme 5 minutes." his baby brother grunted, waving his hands in surrender.

Dean shook his head laughing and headed downstairs to whip up some breakfast. His Sammy definitely was not a morning person. That didn't mean that Dean was but someone had to get some food into his growing brother and it sure as hell wouldn't be their dad right now. He had managed to finally procure another job, but it was shift work and that meant that he was even grumpier than usual and spent his spare time either sleeping or drinking.

But Dean wasn't complaining, a job meant money and that meant actually being able to buy food and hence he was able to make some fresh blueberry pancakes for his brother, leaving an extra few in the fridge for when their dad came home. And if he was nervous about his first day in high school, well he would just have to suck it up, where was the point whining about something he couldn't change anyway.

"Pancakes, awesome!" Sammy shouted eagerly, sitting down at the table and pouring a generous amount of almost authentic maple syrup over them.

"Easy there, the bottle is supposed to last for a couple of weeks." Dean scolded with a smile, snatching the bottle off his brother and pouring some on his own pancakes.

"So, you got everything you need?"

"Mhhh," Sammy mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Ok, here's your sandwich for lunch, sorry, 's nothing fancy,"

Sam grabbed the sandwich putting it inside his rucksack.

"Come on, we have to hurry up, I'll have to drop you off a bit earlier than usual, so I make it to my new school on time."

"Dean, I can walk by myself, I'm not a baby anymore."

"_Of course_ you're not" Dean smirked, clearing the plates away. "Just makes me feel better knowing you actually made it through the gates, and it's more or less on my way."

"It's the opposite direction."

"Well, as I said, it's _almost_ on my way." No way was he letting Sammy walk to school alone, being as he had to cross through the rough part of the neighbourhood, or walk around it and add another twenty minutes to his walk. It would be only for one more year anyway, and then Sammy would go to middle school, which was literally ten minutes walk away from his high school. He could rough it for a few months.

"Come on, at this rate both of us are going to be late for our first day." Oh well, hell, here I come, Dean thought as he grabbed his bag, leading him and Sammy out the door.

#

Damn, the stupid phone always had to ring at the least convenient of moments. Castiel was 'fighting' with about ten books that were rested in his arms, having his folded notes propped under his chin and about to head to the faculty meeting, where he was supposed to cover for the history professor, who had come down with some kind of flu. Castiel though was convinced that he had managed to snap up an assistant position for the laziest professor in existence. He and his fellow workers were basically running the department for the guy.

The phone kept ringing insistently and it was at moments like these that he wished he was one of those people who could simply ignore a ringing phone, but his parents had instilled the diligence of always answering, after all, one never knew if it would be something important (he could literally hear his mother's voice in his head). Amelia had tried in vain over the last two years to teach him the idea of not always having to be available and 'if it was important, they would call again'. So half putting, half dropping the books back on the table, he fished for his phone in his jacket pocket, swiping the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Mr. Novak?" a chirpy sounding voice enquired. Castiel groaned inwardly. Please not some stupid sales call. He hated to be rude to those people but at the moment he did not have the time to let them down nicely.

"Speaking" he replied curtly but abrupt, the 'sorry I'm not interested' already forming on his lips.

"Oh good. This is Healy South High School and I'm calling on behalf of one Dean Winchester."

"Oh," Castiel let out surprised. Why would Dean's school be calling him? Where did they even get his number from?

The voice on the other end must have picked up on his surprise. "Erm, well, you are listed as one of Dean's emergency contacts, is that right?" the woman enquired.

What? Castiel had not been aware of that but regardless he hummed a quick agreement down the line.

"Great. Now, Mr Novak, I'm afraid Dean got himself in a bit of a tussle on his first day at school and as a result has been suspended for the rest of the week. And we would need for him to be picked up."

"What do you mean, tussle?"

"Well, it would be preferable to discuss this in person; in fact the principle would like to have a quick word with a responsible adult about this. Are you able to pick him up? We tried his father but he wouldn't answer his phone."

"Erm, sure I guess." Castiel had no idea why he was agreeing to this, and in all honestly what he was even agreeing to. He was not one of Dean's guardian's _and_ he had a meeting to go to and was sure the head of faculty would bite his head clean off but his mind was already conjuring up numerous scenarios of what could have possibly have happened. One thing was evident, Dean needed someone there with him.

The boy normally liked to keep a low profile and it was only the first day. He had sensed Dean had been a bit off these last couple of days and assumed it was because of starting high school. Still, it didn't sound like him to start up trouble, so something must have happened. And if his dad was not available, what kind of a shitty friend would Castiel be if he didn't go and make sure Dean was ok. And while he had no idea how he possibly ended up on the boy's emergency contact list, he knew that this was something that could be addressed later.

"I could be there in an hour," Castiel added after a moment, mentally calculating the time it would take to talk to the head, get his car, early lunchtime traffic.

"That would be great. In fact Dean is with the nurse right now. If you could make your way straight to the office, and he will be waiting there for you when you get here."

"Ok." Castiel said before hanging up the phone. Dean being with the nurse could only mean he was hurt and that had Castiel whir into overdrive. He wanted to get to him, and fast. He grabbed his keys and bag, the book and notes long forgotten, and made his way up one floor to give the head some story about a 'family emergency' he needed to take care off.

Fifteen minutes later he was speeding down the road, the head having been, well, there was not nice way of putting this, 'pissed' at having to postpone the meeting but trying to be understanding. And Castiel only felt a slight pang of guilt for having lied as to the reasons he had to leave.

#

Dean's eye was pulsating, the skin around it tender and swollen. Breathing was a bit of a challenge, his ribs were hurting from where that jackass had managed to punch him, multiple times. This probably had to be a record, being called to the principle's office and suspended on his first day of high school. At least he was not the only one, as a quick glance to the chair at the other end of the room reminded him. Jackass, or Phil, as he was called, had been ass-hauled as well, and that fact made Dean feel a bit better.

And of course the fact that Cas was coming for him. He really was about the only person Dean wanted to see right now. Cas was different. He was safe; he wouldn't be judgemental of him but listen to his side of the story. Something the principle had a difficult time doing. It seemed like it was enough to come from a certain part of town to get an instant reputation without even trying.

He hardly had been able to hide his relief when the school had been unable to get hold of his dad and had gone to the next person on his contact list. Ok, he felt a bit bad for having put Castiel on that list without asking his permission. He was going to get to that at one point, but it was not as though he had expected to get into trouble quite so soon. He generally preferred to keep his head down and not pay other people much attention, but insulting his family was just a big fat no! Dean knew it was his weak spot and as soon as Phil had picked up on the fact, the insults had just kept coming. No one was calling them 'trash', "spawn of a useless drunk' and 'a waste of space'. He didn't even want to know where had had known about his father. Apparently there really was not escaping one's heritage.

"Mr. Novak, here for Dean Winchester."

Dean's head whipped around, and ouch that hurt, no quick movement the nurse had told him for a reason, but Cas was here and he looked at him from across the room. Their eyes met and Cas gave him a concerned nod. Then his eyes wandered over to the other boy that was sat at the other end of the wall, he looked at least as bad as Dean but still Cas couldn't help a 'good' flash through his thoughts, and immediately gave himself a mental scolding.

"What happened?" Cas asked the secretary, no more demanded to know. Dean looked awful, and Cas was livid.

"The principle will explain this all to you. I will let him know that you're here."

"Hey Winchester, your dad too drunk to come for you himself?" Phil sniped from the corner he cowered in, hoping it was quiet enough not to have been picked up by an adult.

"You-" Cas marched over, standing himself in front of the boy. God, he was about to curse out a boy in the middle of the principle's office, what was wrong with him? But he suddenly had a very good idea as to what might have happened here and he felt a righteous indignation on Dean's behalf. He swallowed, collecting himself. "Would you mind to please refrain from hurling around unsubstantiated insults." The boy just snorted but thankfully didn't utter another word.

"Mr. Novak, the principle will see you now."

Cas gave Dean a reassuring look before disappearing behind the door.

#

Ten minutes later a very sore and miserable Dean was slouched against the passenger door in Cas' car and they were heading home. The silence in the car was suffocating Dean and he was desperate for Cas to say something, anything, he would even take the man shouting at him over the silence. As it was, he wasn't sure whether Cas was mad at him or not, whether the principal had said something that made Cas doubt Dean. But as he had no idea what to say either, he simply kept quiet, instead focussing on the pain in his body.

Cas pulled up in his driveway and walked around opening the door for Dean, helping him out.

They hovered for a second before Dean smiled timidly at Cas. "Thanks for, you know, coming for me, I better be-" Dean pointed in the direction of his house.

"Where you think you're going?"

"Erm- home?"

"Your dad home?"

"No…"

"You honestly think I will leave you on your own like this? Plus there is some stuff we will have to talk about." Cas stated, urging Dean on to follow him into the house.

He walked straight to the living room and motioned for Dean to get comfortable on the couch. Dean groaned when he sat down, that guy had done a serious number on his ribs.

"You want me to get you some painkillers? And maybe an icepack for that shiner." Cas enquired.

"Yes, please"

Cas returned a moment later, glass of water and two pills in one hand, icepack in the other, which Dean took eagerly and washed down with the water before taking the icepack and putting it on his eye.

"So-" Cas said taking a seat on the comfy chair opposite the couch.

"So-" Dean replied meekly.

"Your side of the story, if you don't mind."

Dean gulped, suddenly feeling very foolish about having flown off the handle like that.

"Cas, I'm so sorry. I know it was stupid. I- just the guy would not shut up about dad and Sammy and how we were just a waste of space and, I only intended to push him, and then things just happened and- god you hate me now don't you?" Dean tried to burrow his head in his hands but winced as a jolt of pain coursed through his ribs.

Cas was taken aback by those words. He stood up and moved over, sitting himself down next to Dean.

"Dean, look at me." Dean didn't want to meet his eyes but after some gentle prodding reluctantly looked at Cas.

"First of all, I don't hate you. How could you even think that? I think you are an amazing young person, caring and bright. Did I think you overreacted, yes. Do I understand why, also yes. But Dean, just because you have the physical strength to go after someone who angers you, doesn't mean you have to. Look where it got you."

Dean nodded, feeling his eyes sting and suddenly feeling very, very small.

"Now, what I would really like to know is how it is I ended up on your contact list."

"Oh god, Cas. I know I should have asked, just, I trust you and, without trying to sound pathetic, there really wasn't anyone else I could have put on there."

Cas gulped at the simple truth of that statement.

"Still, how, I mean from what I understand those forms need to be signed by your parent or guardian and, did you dad agree to this?"

Dean shifted and looked extremely uncomfortable, and not just from the pain, Cas could tell.

"_Dean_."

"Ifakedthesignature," he whispered so quietly Cas would have missed it, if it hadn't been for his lips moving.

"Pardon?"

"I faked it, ok, I'm- dad never got around to filling it in and suddenly it was the first day of school and-"

They both sat in silence for a moment.

"Dean, I- you are getting to an age where you can get in trouble over things like that, faking someone's signature is an offence and, I don't want you to get into trouble, you don't want to get yourself into trouble. You have your whole life ahead of you, these things can come back and haunt you."

"So, you're mad at me for the signature and the fight, but … not for putting you on the list?" Dean needed clarification.

"Well, it would have been nice to have been asked first, but no, I'm not. But why didn't you?"

"I- I guess I was scared you would say no." Dean felt pathetic and needy for admitting this, but it was the truth. He had been scared to ask this of Castiel but at the same time wanted him to be one of his contacts, so he had done the stupid 'do it now, worry about it later' thing.

"And that would have been in my right to do so." Cas said, Dean nodded humbly in agreement.

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

"Enough with the apologising for now. Just promise me not to fake your dad's signature again, or put my name on any more lists without first consulting me."

"Deal," Dean smiled, feeling eternally grateful to seemingly have gotten off lightly, well apart from the week's detention. He had no idea how he would explain that to his dad. Maybe he would be lucky and he wouldn't notice him not going to school, having the early shift this week

"And as for that jerk in school. Don't let him yank you around like that. You can't control what people say or do but you can control how you react. Look, I haven't exactly been Mr. Popular in school and sometimes it's best to just let it go, not to give them anything to work with. Focus on what you want to do and achieve. Dean, at the risk of repeating myself, you are a very bright young man, and I think if you put your mind to it you can achieve anything you want. And I'm for one will definitely be here to nudge you in the right direction ever so often. So be warned."

"Thanks Cas," Dean rasped, his throat was in danger of closing up from too many emotions, thankfully he was interrupted by a renewed wave of rib pain when he took in too deep a breath.

Cas saw the way Dean's body spasmed. The principal had informed him that Dean had seen the nurse and that she had concluded, after a 'thorough' examination, that the ribs were bruised but not cracked and advised on some rest and painkillers.

"How bad is it?"

"Not too bad," Dean lied.

"Dean, you don't look like it's not too bad!"

"Ok, it's freaking painful, I cannot take a deep breath without feeling like my chest is going to catch fire, but I'm sure the painkillers will kick in soon."

Of course Dean had to play the tough guy and told Cas it was nothing. Cas just shook his head.

"Dean, maybe I should have a look, just to, I don't know make sure it's as the nurse said. I did do a first aid course a while back."

Dean insisted it was ok, but Cas could be very insisted when he wanted to be and after a little back and forth Dean agreed, lifting up his shirt under a sharp intake of breath, to reveal a big bruise forming on the right side, going right around the back. Cas took in a sharp inhale of breath. Just by looking at it he could tell that it must be really painful and tender.

"The guy really got you good." he commented, looking at the swollen flesh.

"Got him better," Dean grumbled and Cas huffed, shaking his head but flashing the teenager a small smirk.

"Hold on, I have an idea," Cas said disappearing to a confused looking Dean. Cas remembered his wife having some Arnica cream in the bathroom, and swearing by its efficiency against bruising and swelling.

"Here, put that on" he said handing the bottle to Dean and sitting down next to him again.

Dean poured a generous amount on his fingers but when he tried to move his arm to reach the back, a jolt of pain shot through his upper body.

"Mother of-" he cursed under his breath, panting hard, which only increased the pain, switching to taking short shallow gasps instead.

"Here let me," Cas offered, taking Dean's hand into his and transferring as much of the cream from Dean's fingers to his own as he could.

Dean eyes were glued to their touching hands, feeling his heart rate increase. 'Shit, not now' he silently pleaded with himself.

"Can you move a bit?" Cas asked, having trouble to get to Dean's right side without twisting his own body in a rather acrobatic way. Dean nodded his head and shifted with his whole body so as not to put too much strain on his ribs.

Cas had one leg stretched out on the couch and his position resulted in Dean basically being rested between his legs by the time he was done moving. Dean was suddenly an emotional mess of pain, and cold sweat and a feeling of anticipation that left him breathless even more. Then he felt it, the first touch of Cas' fingers against his skin, and Dean couldn't help but hiss. He wished it was just from pain but in reality it was the overwhelming sensation of feeling Cas touch his skin like that had him electrified, like he just put a finger in a socket.

"Sorry," Cas said removing his fingers briefly, giving Dean time to catch his breath, before gently putting them back, rubbing the cream into Dean's skin.

"This will be uncomfortable, but it should really help." he said, trying to reassure Dean.

Oh god. Yes it was uncomfortable, but not for the reasons Cas thought. Dean was just glad he was sitting with his back to his friend so he could hide the fact that he already was embarrassingly aroused (again). And Cas' touch was so, ugh- Dean didn't even have words for it. This time he was too tired and sore to hightail it out of here. So instead, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel each touch, each stroke, the way the cream felt cold when first applied and then slowly turned warm as Cas continued to rub it into his skin. The way his fingertips moved over his bruises. He was being so gentle, it was driving Dean mad, the worst and best torture imaginable.

He had the extreme urge to just let his head fall back against the man sat so close behind him. To feel that closeness, that body heat. He could almost feel himself sway backwards before internally screaming at himself to get a grip. Cas was a married man, an older married man! His lack of determination one way or another ended up with him going rigid which Cas in turn took as a sign of him being in pain, and he soothed him, telling him that he would be done soon. Oh god, if only he knew. Dean hated himself for making his friend worry about him when in reality he was getting dangerously close to getting off on the man's touches. He took in a well needed (not so) deep breath and tried to calm himself, focussing on the ache and discomfort rather than Cas' hands and where they were on his body.

Cas tried to work as fast as possible, he didn't want to inflict any more pain on the boy, he really looked on edge, confirmed by the occasional hiss and grunt. Cas forced himself to work faster, while still trying to be as gentle as possible. That was one big bruise, or a string of small bruises, it was too hard to tell right now, and would no doubt take a few weeks to heal properly. Once finished, he pulled Dean's shirt back down.

"Sorry, hope it didn't hurt too much." He asked worried, getting up off the couch, and taking another look at Dean.

"'S alright." Dean replied, still too focused to hide his current predicament, placing his hands over his lap.

"I think you could do with some rest, is your dad going to be home soon? I don't want you to stay on your own."

Dean shook his head, "Not until early evening. But Sammy should be home soon and he can-"

"No, you can rest here for now and when Sammy comes home he can come over as well. I will let him know what happened to you. I'm sure Amelia will want to spoil you two rotten when she gets back. In the meantime, let me get my laptop, so I can work on my thesis while watching you."

Dean was too exhausted, for a variety of reasons, to argue or even protest that he didn't need watching, and simply nodded his head. The thought of Cas watching over him while he slept was kind of soothing, in a weird sort of way.

Cas left and returned a few minutes later with a blanket and his laptop, placing the laptop on the coffee table and urging Dean on to lay back. Dean tried not to grunt at the pain the movement caused him and needed a moment before finding a comfortable position. He smiled tiredly up at Cas, the painkillers seem to finally be kicking in making him feel sleepy.

Cas smiled back, pulling up the blanket and covering him, ruffling his hair and telling him to try to get some sleep.

Dean could feel the phantom touch to his hair for a long time, watching Cas type away at the laptop, finding the quiet click clicks of the keys soothing. He finally succumbed to his tiredness and fell into a uneasy sleep.


End file.
